A little green
by Dan Ingram
Summary: Fred left a daughter behind in Pylea. The Fang Gang, trapped in hell, finds her. A series of short stories and drabbles about what happens next.
1. Jenny

Footnotes

Couple things:

This story is an unauthorized sequel to 'You think she's an Open Book (but you don't know which page to turn to)' by Spuffyduds, wherein Lorne finds Fred's daughter born on Pylea.

Second, this'll be an experiment for me as this'll be a collection of related stories than an ongoing one. So lets see how it goes!

Hell

He doesn't say why he wants them to come, not exactly. Hell had ears, it was no different from any other place in that regard, after all. But he adds 'Fluffy' and 'Taco cave of crazy' (and to Spike, an empathic 'Do not bring Illyria under any circumstances whatsoever!') to make sure their curiosity is peaked, and sits back and waits.

It takes a few days for them to reply back, and promise to be there, but in the end, they all make it on the same day.

Lorne sighed as he saw what was left of 'the old gang'. Angel looks like he's been dragged behind a truck, Wesley's fashion is five years out of date (and a ghost), and Spike is, well, Spike. And as beaten up and beaten down as they were, they were still the best of what was left of his friends.

It wasn't the lack of a real sun, the overwhelming armies of demons or heat and humidity that absolutely ruined his best suits that made Los Angeles hell. No, for Lorne what made LA hell was seeing his friends like this.

But, Lorne had found, even Hell had miracles.

"Okay Kermit, we're all here," said Spike, "what's this all about then?"

"It's a surprise," smiled Lorne, which quickly flipped upside down when he saw how they tensed.

"Really guys?" Lorne said, "even you, Wesley? You're just a ghost! What do you have to be scared of anymore?"

"You'd be surprised, Lorne," Wesley said, "and you'll have to forgive us, but may I remind you this is hell? Even if you don't intend us harm, who's to say that you haven't been forced to bring us all together by someone who does?"

"And besides, some of us have some lounging to do by the pool side," Spike added.

"Always the humanitarian," Angel huffed, "I'm sorry Lorne, but they're right. What's so important that the three of us had to be here together?"

"And that Illyria not be," Spike added, "can't say she's the most fun at a party, but she's still one of us, mate."

"You'll see," the smile returns to Lorne's face, and he ushers them to follow him.

Angel studied his old friend, and sees an energy in him that he hadn't seen in Lorne since before the Senior Partners threw all of LA into hell. An enthusiasm that seemed to evaporate like a mist when Fred…

"Welcome to what used to be Embassy Row," Lorne led them threw a white picket fence, and like a car salesmen, swept his hands towards the little green skinned girl, wearing a yellow dress patterned with flowers. The young girl didn't seem to take notice of them at all, but was writing something in the sandbox with a straight stick while a young woman sat a few feet away, reading a book, but glancing up every now and then to keep an eye on the child.

"Ta da!"

"What, is she your cousin or something?" said Spike. He looked at Lorne and back to the child. Their coloring was different, hers was a light lime green in contrast to Lorne's green, lizard like skin. In fact, if it weren't for her skin color and small horns, Spike would have easily taken her for just a normal kid.

The young child heard the new voices, felt the eys cast upon her and her head snapped in their direction.

That was the light bulb moment for everyone. The light brown hair, the lips, her cheekbones and then finally, her eyes. Her eyes told it all.

"Fred…" said Wesley.

"Blood…eeee…hell," is all Spike can think to say.

And again, Lorne's smile fades as he sees Wesley almost on the verge of tears while Spike, who threw himself at anything without a second thought, simply stood there in shock.

The exception was the big man himself. Angel said nothing, but Lorne sees him put on a practiced fake smile and realizes that he's not doing it for himself, but for the little girl.

"Hello there," Angel bent down to look at her better. Some part of him just needed to memorize her features, "what's your name?"

"Jenny," she says, eyes cast down.

"Jenny? That's a very pretty name. Mine's Angel."

"Hello," Jenny said, without meeting his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Angel looked at the sand. There were all kinds of different symbols, but they looked consistent, a series of pattern…

Jenny stood up and dragged her feet through the sand, destroying everything.

"I'm tired," Jenny said softly. Her words are carefully selected, as if she's just learned the language, "can I go to bed?"

"Of course pumpkin, you go get some rest," Lorne patted Jenny on the head, and she quickly rushed inside.

"Lorne?"

In all the shock and raw emotion, the four realize that they hadn't even met the girl's caregiver.

"Oh! Ashley! Please meet my friends," Lorne introduced them in short order, "guys, this peach is Ashley. She was a kindergarten teacher, before everyone, ya know, everyone became too afraid to send their kids to school."

"Ah yes, the 90s. Terrible era that," said Spike.

"Anyways, she's been watching Jenny for me, and she hasn't been too much trouble, has she?"

Ashley snorted, and then shook her head.

"Honestly, I barely know she's there half the time. She spends all day drawing in the sandbox, or in her room."

"Same ol' story," Lorne said with a sad chuckle, "well, why don't you run along and get some dinner, and we'll see you tomorrow, bright eyed and bushy tailed?"

"Sounds good. It was lovely meeting you," Ashley offered her hand to Wesley to shake first, but when it passed through like smoke, she politely excused herself.

"Smells a little like her," Spike says, but then shook her head, "but no way. No bloody way."

"Lets discuss this upstairs," Lorne says. He leads the stunned trio into the house and upstairs, but motioned for them to be silent.

Lorne was surprised to discover that, even though he was a lord of hell, there was still room for diplomacy here and there. And where ever there was diplomacy, there was duplicity. Some demons of hell were not exactly familiar with certain human inventions, like 'sound proofing' and 'one sided mirrors'.

The room was opposite of Jenny, and they saw the young girl not laying on the bed, but sleeping on the floor atop of some dresses she must have pulled out of the closet and strewn about the floor for reasons known only to her.

"Who the bloody hell has a one way mirror and a sound proofed room across from the main bedroom?" Spike said.

"You don't want to know," said Lorne, "like, super don't want to know that I made sure they burned through two bottles of cleaner before I even thought to give her the room."

"Should have had them sweep, too," Spike looked down at a small pile of dry wall dust on the floor.

"You listen to music in here too?" Angel asked.

"I'm sorry, Angel cake?"

Angel held up an Ipod, "Found this on the floor."

"Oh, I gave that to Jenny, full of country music" Lorne shook his head, "kids, they get everywhere, ya know?"

"Not Fred's," Wesley said, as if it were Gospel, "she's not. It's impossible."

"No Wes," Angel says gently, "it's not. Look at Groo…"

"Who looks considerably different than that…thing!"

"Hey now!" Lorne snapped, "that is not a thing, that's a little girl!"

"I'm sorry," Wesley stepped back, "but you know what I mean. She can't be Fred's daughter, She would have told us! Why wouldn't she have told us?"

"Think you just answered your own question there, watcher boy," Spike folded his hands across his chest, and leaned back against the wall, "even if we'd never say it, what would be the first question we'd ask ourselves?"

"'Why didn't you tell us sooner'?" Angel nodded.

"And who's to say she even thought she was alive? It was a little before your time, but believe me Wes, life as a slave is no picnic."

"That's…" Wesley shook his head, "she was with us for years. Why never say anything?"

"Remember when her parents first came?" said Angel, "remember what happened? She tried to run away, because seeing her parents made everything, Pylia, demons, vampires, everything _real_. Not vampires, or green lounge owners. What made everything real was her parents, not being back on earth, and most certainly not us."

"That…doesn't mean anything."

"Denial is a powerful tool," Spike cast his eyes at the ceiling, "back in '78, me and Dru met this real stuck up ponce. He swore up and down that there were no such things as vampires, demons, nothing like that, and anyone who said otherwise was a liar. So we decided to set this guy straight.

We kidnap him, and introduce him to all our friends. From The Master, to Clem. And this guy, he's screaming and crying and wetting himself the whole time. And I mean…"

"Yes Spike, we get it," interrupted Angel.

"Anyway, we only do it for the weekend, see? Then knocked him out, splashed him with some cheap booze, cleaned him up, and the next day, the very next day! Bloke didn't recognize us crossing the street," Spike said, "though he did eat a gun a week later."

"That's…certainly more elaborate than your usual fair," Angel observed.

"We were…*cough* rollplayingasyou," Spike muttered under his breath.

Angel chuckled, gallows humor being all he had left these days.

"Fred was never suicidal," Wesley countered.

"No, but she'd just left the nest, right?" Spike said, "young girl, first time away from home. No Watcher school teaching her that things do go dump in the night, and all of a sudden she's in a whole other world? Where she's the slave of green nasties and not even considered human? That she clawed back to sanity was proof of how tough she really was."

"And how much did she really talk about it, Wes?" said Angel, "I mean the gritty details. How she escaped the shock collar, where did she get the supplies for her cave? How she was made a slave in the first place?"

"We never pressed her for what happened, and that was our mistake. We acted as her coping mechanism, we…we should have looked harder. Tried to…"

"Hey, hey!" Spike snapped his fingers in Angel's face, "past is past. Lets focus on what we have here, eh?"

"I…" Wesley tried to think of something, anything, "Could she be like The Key? Something like that?"

"Her name is Dawn, you ghostly ass, and she's just as real as any of us," Spike said, "and more than some. Now, does anyone remember her before now? No? Then move. On."

"Wolfram and Hart, they…" Wesley said, "she's…something out of a lab, or…"

"Her hands are calloused, and look at her back, towards the top."

Wesley did, and he saw lines of discoloration that meant…

"…this is impossible."

"Said that already four eyes."

"And look at her muscle tone. I haven't seen anything like that in over a hundred years," said Angel, "no baby fat whatsoever."

"So she was a slave, that doesn't prove anything!" Wesley took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt, even though they couldn't have had a speck of dirt on them.

"I know what will," Angel said, "Lorne, just how much education are half, I mean hybrids generally allowed?"

"Angel?" Lorne gave his old friend a 'why does it matter?' kind of look.

"Just humor me. How much are they allowed?"

"Nothing past manual or degrading labor, and I really do mean nothing," Lorne replied, "if any…ah…hybrid is caught learning without their, umm…owner's permission or very good reason, they're whipped along with five others selected at random, left to hang by their wrists for four days and then they get mean. And that's if the ahh…owner doesn't decide to get creative."

"That settles it, then," said Angel, "she's Fred's daughter."

"What, you have DNA vision now, Captain Forehead?" Spike said.

"Hey, I ran a detective agency," Angel said defensively, "I can detect!"

"Oh bullocks. That was just an excuse for you to run around and play hero! You couldn't find a clue right in front of your face."

"Funny you should say that, Spike. Look at the dresses. See how they lead to the wall? And what do you think they were hung on?"

"…hangers?"

"Coat hangers," Angel said, "metal, I'd bet my soul on it."

"And this matters why?" said Spike.

"Just…just wait," Angel said, "this is my Parlor scene, and I'm the detective here. Lorne, you have pretty good hearing right? It's a…green thing, right?"

"You better believe Angel baby. You would not believe the juicy gossip these babies have picked up over the years…"

"And again, this all matters because?" Spike rolled his eyes.

"Put it together, Spike. Look at the dresses," Angel said, "they lead to the wall here. Metal carries vibrations, _sound_. Remember the drywall dust, that Ipod that was here? I know in my heart that that little girl in there is Fred's daughter… because without any formal education, she's developed, tested and then concealed a listening devise using nothing but metal coat hangers, dresses and duct tape."

"Then, that means…" Lorne looked at Jenny, and saw her trembling even though only a minute ago she seemed to be asleep.

"She's listening to us right now."

"Please…" Jenny shot up to her knees with the speed of a startled cat, head bowed. She turned around, and lowered the back of her dress, revealing an ugly web of scars, "this cow asks for twenty lashes. Please, twenty lashes, I deserve it…"

Spike couldn't keep himself from growling.

"We can't solve this by punching someone," Angel said with an even voice, "I'll handle this. I just need some candy to fix this."

"Oh, big tall and dark is bringing the little bird candy," Spike rolled his eyes, "you'd make father of the year easy."

"Shut up, Spike."


	2. Interview with a vampire

Despite what he'd told his friends, Angel had his doubts. Not that Jenny wasn't Fred's daughter, at this point it would have taken a DNA report to convince him otherwise. But didn't mean she was completely innocent, even if she was, well, completely innocent herself. For all he knew, she was a genetically engineered monster programmed to eat his face the moment she caught his scent.

In a world where a sibling could be created out of thin air and entire memories rewritten, skepticism was survival 101. Weirder things had happened.

But if this wasn't a plot, if this really was simply Fred's daughter…

She was real or she wasn't.

Angel realized he really didn't know how to feel about either option. He just knew that he had to find the answer and then go from there.

That was why Angel stood at the entrance of Jenny's room, and here in the pits of Hell, and thought back to his time as Angelus. Not for the purposes of guilt and shame (though there was plenty of that to be found), but to remember how he had stalked certain prey that had been 'extinct' for over a hundred years.

Where most vampires killed as a matter of habit or subsistence, Angelus was different. Blood was a distraction to him, the same way food was to humans. Required for survival, and sometimes enjoyable but rarely an end in and of itself.

What made Angelus stalk the night was the complete and utter destruction of the human spirit. And to that end, there was no greater master than him.

Angelus saw suffering not just as an art, but a calling, a passion. And like everything else, there were challenges and even a science to it. Druillas didn't just happen, after all. It took a lot of time, effort and dead virgins to create 'art' like that.

So, to keep his talents sharp, Angelus made a target of a slave at least once a decade. Most of his kind ignored them for anything other than food, but not him. Spike once asked why his Sire bothered with pathetic prey, to which Angelus replied calmly.

"Why does a man climb a mountain? Because its there."

Spike never got it, not that Angelus cared. All he cared about was perfecting his art. How do you destroy the spirit of someone who has nothing to call their own, not even the clothes on their back? How do you tear down someone already at the bottom rung of society?

The depth of Angelus' ruthlessness knew no bounds, and he was ready to prove that every single day.

However, to accomplish that, Angelus had to befriend them, to break bread and sometimes even share a home with them. He studied them with an expert eye, worked his way into their confidence, sometimes even into their family and then betrayed them with a smirk and a laugh.

Angelus was a hunter of the human spirit, and he always knew how to draw out his prey.

But when the Civil War came, Angelus lost interest. As slavery died as a large institution, so did his interest in them. And decades later, Angelus would reflect that he spent more time building them up than he ever did tearing them down.

And just like every other crime or atrocity he'd committed, Angel remembered everything.

Only now maybe, just maybe, today those terrible lessons could help him find the truth.

"Jenny? May I come in?" Angel knocked on the door just hard enough to open it.

"Puh…please, please come in," Jenny said meekly. She had turned towards Angel, but kept her head meekly bowed, "this cow nuh…never meant to spy on her betters, I…"

"Jenny, I'm not mad about that at all," Angel knelt down and picked up a dress, revealing the metal wire underneath, "could you tell me who taught you to do this?"

"Nuh…no one," Jenny said quickly.

"Have you done anything like this before?"

Jenny shook her head, "Never! I swear!"

"Then how'd you know it would work?" said Angel.

"I…" Jenny's small body began to wrack with sobs, and Angel felt like scum. Having been caught in a lie, he had no doubt Jenny was terrified of what would happen next. From Jenny's perspective, he was still an unknown quality. And to a slave, an unknown quality was as dangerous as a lit match in a fireworks factory. One wrong move, and everything got worse.

"It's okay, shhhh," Angel placed a careful hand on her shoulder, "I'm not angry, and I won't hurt you, I promise."

Jenny gave him a mixed look of fear and confusion, and Angel knew why. Sometimes those who pretended to be kind could be the cruelest. Angel still remembered how one slave master offered to teach his slaves to read and write, to uplift them despite their humble station but used a book written in French to teach them. And when they failed, he said it was only proof of their own inferiority, how they deserved their lot in life.

Angelus got a chuckle out of it for months.

And not being punished for an infraction? Especially something like this? For this young girl, it was as if (what she knew as) law and order had completely disappeared.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought it was very impressive," Angel took a small bag of M&M out of his coat, and took a few bites, "would you like some?"

Jenny reached out a hand, and was shocked to come back with the entire bag of candy. She looked at it with the awe someone might look at a roll of hundred dollar bills, and then back to Angel.

"You can keep it."

Jenny looked at Angel, and then back to the candy. She took a few experimental bites, before she began shoveling the candy in her mouth. She glanced back at Angel, each time asking for permission with her eyes.

When Angel didn't stop her, Jenny wolfed them down as if she hadn't eaten in months. Angel expected as much. A life of slavery meant that your life depended on your body and your ability to work. Anything that might help with that, like say a few scraps of food, was as precious as gold.

And food was a reward that couldn't be taken away.

Angel waited politely for her to finish the candy, before he continued his 'interview'.

"It was very clever. Could you tell me why you did it?"

Jenny looked at the floor, and muttered, "I…just wanted to know why. Why you care about something like me…"

If she were anyone else, Angel was certain he'd know what to say. That she wasn't something, but some_one_. Because everyone was special and everything in her life up until now was wrong, and that she just deserved so much better. Because she just might be the daughter of a woman he knew and cared so very much about.

But her mother was dead, her body a vessel for a God while her father was a rapist who'd just as soon kill her as sell her, and no matter what she deserved, her life was so terrible that falling into hell was considered a step up. And despite all that, she was still in terrible danger, not just being in Hell, but merely by being associated with him.

"Because I do," said Angel, thankful that Spike wasn't present to hear that. Angel moved to the bed, and sat down.

"My hand!" Jenny set the candy down and lifted her left hand, trembling, "I should be punished! Please!"

Angel recognized the tactic instantly. It was a double bluff, a means of diffusing their master's anger while proving their complete and utter submission to their master's will. But at the same time, if luck was on their side, their master would never take them up on the offer.

After all, it was like tearing out the steering wheel of a car because the tail lights were out.

The reaction made Angel curious, so he played a hunch.

He lifted the mattress, and tucked in between the box spring he found several books. There was an old Times magazine, a magazine catalog, a worn math book, there was no common thread between them other than, Angel suspected, that they would never be missed.

Jenny put her hand over her mouth, as if she were about to throw up.

"Hey, hey! It's okay, it's okay!" Angel was at her side in a blink, and pulled her into a hug.

This simple act of compassion, of concern was like a release valve to the young girl. She fell into Angel's chest, crying in relief.

In the last ten minutes, he'd discovered almost everything about her, and wasn't the least bit angry. To her, it must have been like receiving a pardon from death row.

How much time had passed before Jenny calmed down, Angel didn't know. But when he was certain she wouldn't be hysterical, he picked up the first book as if it were made of glass, and set it on the nightstand.

"You don't have to hide these," Angel said. He removed them all, showed them to Jenny, and set them all within reach, "in fact, you can ask Lorne for more."

"More…?" Jenny's voice cracked with a chuckle of disbelief, and she had a smile that reached her face, "you really mean that?"

That look of inquisitiveness, salivating at the promise of knowledge while still being able to appreciate the sheer size, in all his hundreds of years of life, he'd only seen that look on one woman.

"I do," said Angel.

In his head, he was running off a checklist. If Jenny was some artificial construct, some lab creation, whoever created her deserved an award. The scars, the hidden stash of books, the calloused hands, there was almost no doubt in Angel's mind. There was just one last thing before Angel lost all doubt, but it was also the cruelest.

_Please understand, Fred._

"Lorne said you could sing?" said Angel.

"Sing…?"

Angel sang a few bars of 'Row row your boat', and Jenny nodded numbly. She then began, timidly.

"_The…There's a yellow rose in Texas, That I'm going to see." _

Angel felt a pang in his chest. He could remember a time when Fred had spent all day humming the lyrics. At the time, it was a little annoying. Like a fly he couldn't swat. Now…

"_Nobody else could miss her, Not as much as I."_

Intellectually, Angel knew that this was the last nail in the coffin (not a phrase he cared for). Jenny's home dimension barely had a concept of music, and the lyrics were off. Jenny wasn't singing a song she had been taught to memorize or programmed into her mind, it was something she remembered and barely at that.

"_She cried so I left her It like to broked my heart."_

"If…" Jenny stopped singing and put her hands over her mouth, as if to keep something inside of her from falling out, "…if I…please, let me stop. I don't…please, please, please no more!"

"Hey hey, it's alright!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry!"

Angel hugged the girl as the tears streamed down her face, and he could almost see the thin rapport he'd been able to build with her falling in her tears.

By definition, as a slave, Jenny had almost nothing to call her own. Not the clothes on her back, not the fingers on her hand, the eyes in her head, even her life. She had absolutely nothing that her master couldn't take away on a cruel, casual whim.

All she had that was her and hers alone, were memories. Angelus had found that often slaves would take some small part of themselves, a nickname their mother gave them, a memory of kindness from a loved one, something good and pure and just _theirs_, and would lock it away deep inside. They would maybe share it with the other slaves, but never would they allow a master to 'see it'.

And that was what Jenny's half remembered song was to her. It was the only link she shared to the mother that loved her, a mother she barely remembered, a mother that was now gone. It was the only thing that they couldn't take from her, until now.

Angel could almost hear Angelus' slow clap.

"You don't have to sing anymore," said Angel, "and you never have to again, unless you want to."

Jenny, her eyes stained with tears, finally were able to meet Angel's.

"You…you mean it?"

"I swear it," said Angel.

Jenny's eyes lit up in disbelief.

"Look, it's been a long day," said Angel, "maybe you should get some rest."

Jenny nodded, and was beginning to lay down on the floor before Angel stopped her.

"Maybe you should try the bed," Angel suggested with a warm smile, "it's a lot more comfortable than the floor."

"I…I can't," Jenny said. She looked at the bed with the awe most people reserved for mansions and expensive jewels, "it's not for someone like…"

Angel realized that the bed barely looked like it had been used at all. Jenny had likely thought that it just being there was either a test of her submission, or an accident, that someone just hadn't come and taken it yet.

"It's yours, and you should use it," Angel pulled back the sheets, and helped her up into bed. He tucked her in gently, trying to ignore how Jenny seemed to be in pure awe of the fact that she was allowed an actual bed all to herself.

"Angel?" Jenny looked at him with hopeful eye, "are you real? I mean, I know if you weren't real, you'd say you were real to make me think you were real, but if you are real and this is real, and…"

"I'm real, Jenny," Angel said, "why do you ask?"

"Because you look like a cow, but you're not," Jenny said carefully. Her eyes studied Angel's face, looking for any hint of disapproval.

"Why do you say that?" Angel was baffled. Most people just assumed that he was still a vampire despite the fact that the Senior Partners had returned his humanity, but how could this young girl have reached the same conclusion now that he was human?

"You don't move like them at all," said Jenny, "everything about you is different from them."

"Of…course," Angel said, "well, Jenny, I'm real, and I promise that I will always protect…"

Angel was interrupted by a snort. Jenny was already fast asleep, for real this time.

"Right."

Angel made his way down the stairs briskly, and when he came out he saw Lorne, flanked by two of his thugs, arguing with what looked to be several members of his race about something. Spike and Wesley hung back just far enough to be able to hear, but didn't intervene.

"What's this about?" Angel looked at Wesley.

"Apparently these two are arguing for Jenny's return," Wesley replied, "they're being surprisingly gentle about it, actually."

"Shame," Angel strolled past one of Lorne's men, plucking free a sword that hung from its hip, "I might actual feel guilty about this."

"Oh, hey Angel," Lorne turned to his old friend, "have a good talk? Don't worry, these guys aren't making any threats, just begging in a polite and classy fashion for their slave back. It would almost be cute, if it weren't for the racism and dehumanization of it all."

"Then this is probably just a misunderstanding," Angel said with a smile, "Spike?"

Angel stabbed the first Deathwok demon in the knee, and then twisted the sword to the side, before pulling it out. The man hadn't even begun to fall backwards before Angel smashed his boot into the wound.

The demon fell on his back, and screamed for mercy when he saw Angel standing over him. Holding the sword in both hands, Angel slammed it through his shoulder.

Angel glanced over his shoulder, and saw that Spike had taken care of the second man. He then turned back to the first.

"There seems to be some confusion," Angel growled, "that cow doesn't belong to you. It doesn't belong to Lorne. That thing belongs to me, to do with however, whatever, I want. He's just holding it for me."

Angel twisted the sword to emphasize his point.

"Is. That. Clear?"

"…yes," squeaked the Demon.

Lorne waited until the two had slinked off before he turned to Angel with a face contorted in anger.

"What…the hell…was that?" Lorne demanded.

"They wanted to know why she was important to you. Then they would have stopped being polite and tried to use her as leverage," Angel said, "now they won't."

"What did you learn about the girl?" Wesley said.

"She has too many rough edges to be anything but real."

"I think you underestimate the Senior Partners," suggested Wesley.

"And I think you overestimate them," Angel countered, "and even if she's a fake, something brewed up in a lab, then someone wants us to think she's Fred's. Which means they'll put her in danger to get to us just the same."

And then he chuckled.

The chuckle went from mild amusement, then broke into bell wracking laughter. Angel laughed so hard he fell to one knee, and his friends exchanged an awkward glance, wondering if their friend had finally lost it.

"Angel…? Just what's so amusing?" Wesley said finally.

"You…haha…don't get it?" Angel swept his hand towards the bloody skies, "the Senior Partners…hahahaha…they sent us to hell! This entire city! Whoosh! Down the toilet! Fire and brimstone!"

"And this is funny how?" said Spike.

Angel wiped away a tear and with a big, goofy smile on his face, said, "They sent us all to Hell, millions of people and what happened? We found ourselves an angel."

Spike snorted, and then fell into a fit of laughter, followed immediately by Lorne. Wesley just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Alright," Angel rubbed his eyes, and then stood up straight. Angel took a deep, calming breath. The stench of blood and sulfur barely registered.

Lorne, Spike and Wesley saw it, but didn't believe it. In the span of a few breathes, the Angel they knew, the one that inspired them all to fight for just one brief second of freedom for the entire human race, had returned.

Because when Angel had a cause to fight for, he was a man to be reckoned with. But when he had some_one_ to fight for, he was a force of nature.

"Lets go to work."


	3. Far from home

It wouldn't until years later that Jenny learned how LA was returned to the mortal plane, how the Senior Partners were forced it reverse themselves and how all the people slaughtered returned, with their memories intact.

It wasn't because it was too hard for her to hear what happened to the people she considered her family.

No, it was because the sheer terror of going from a bed in a Hell infested LA, to waking up in the woods of Pylea was as fresh in her mind years later as the day it happened, an open wound that festered for years.

Jenny woke up in the dirt and grass, raining pouring down on her. The cold air on her horns was like an electric jolt, and she shot up a wild animal.

"Nonononono…"

Once glance at the sky confirmed her worst fears. Two suns.

Home.

For a brief moment, Jenny began to wonder if LA, Lorne and Angel were all a dream, a fantasy she'd created in her own mind, as if she'd become as lost in her own mind like her mother.

But one look down, seeing the white floral dress that Ashley had given her, confirmed her worst fears.

It was real. There were people who cared for her. She wasn't a slave. A cow.

And that was over.

Now she was just an escaped, demon blooded cow. It didn't matter that she hadn't actually run away, that she never disobeyed an Overseer in her life.

All that mattered was that she was alone in the woods with no owner in sight. Since the uprising, it was worse than a simple death sentence.

The young girl walked in one direction, then another, like an animal pacing its cage. Just thinking of what direction to head in was dizzying. With each step it felt as if the world were turning upside down, and it wasn't before long that Jenny felt short of breath, indecision and fear tearing her apart as the sheer weight of the entire world seemed to weigh on her shoulders.

"Why?" Jenny fell to her knees, and curled up into a ball, mud clinging to her once white dress, "why did they leave?"

"They didn't, sweetie. They're coming, I promise."

Jenny's eyes went wide, and she jumped to her feet.

Nothing.

"You can't see me," said the voice. Jenny recognized the voice as feminine, but nothing else, "but I need you to trust me."

"Why?" Jenny snapped without even thinking, "what do you want? Who…what are you?"

"Smart, just like your mom," said the voice, "let's just call me a family friend. And I want to help you."

"I don't believe you," Jenny growled. Years of pain boiled over, "you lie! You! All! Lie!"

Jenny then clasped her hands over her mouth, realizing that anyone could be listening.

If there was a time she ever felt more alone in the world, Jenny couldn't remember it. And she had no shortage of memories of being alone.

"Well, okay, that's a little harsh," said the voice, "tell me, little lady, you have anywhere else to go?"

Jenny shook her head, and wiped the tears from her face.

"Well then you need to get walking, honey. Go straight, and when you see the double tree, turn left."

Jenny, not seeing any other choice, went in the direction she was told.

While she walked, the voice in Jenny's head, from her perspective, was determined to taunt her. It said that she was a pretty girl, that it must run in the family, that she was so big to have come from someone so small.

Jenny realized that she wasn't mad, if this voice was somehow real, then it knew her mother better than Jenny ever did.

And made the little girl angry. Angrier than she had ever been in her entire life.

Her mother, a vague memory of a woman who made toys for her out of discarded twigs, rope and cloth, was all Jenny had. It was all any cow really had. And here some strange voice was, just flaunting how much closer she had been to her only family. Truth or lies, it still felt like a knife to Jenny's heart.

Jealousy, grief and anger curdled together until Jenny could barely hear the voice over the pounding of her own heart and see past the tears in her eyes.

But, finally…"

"Hey, hey listen!"

Jenny stopped in her tracks, and looked through her tears to see a knight in the distance, standing on the ledge above her. He was looking away from her at the moment, but all he needed to do was turn his head, and…

"See that guy with the dark armor, spikes sword and ugly disposition, sweetie?" said the voice, "that's what we call a bad guy."

Jenny froze. Her brain demanded she run, but fear that severed the connection between her wits and her body.

She could barely breathe.

She recognized him as one of the 'Knights of Honored Scars'. To even be a member, one of the Knights would have to have been scarred in a 'Cow Uprising'. From there, according to the whispers, they spent two years training to improve their skills, to the point where they were the equal to the mighty Groosalugg.

The Honored Scars prided themselves on deterring cow uprisings as much as they did putting them down, by ending any cow that dared even breathe of freedom as painfully as possible and in front of many people they could find.

"Don't panic," said the voice, "and I need you to trust me, honey."

Jenny just barely managed to nod.

"Then scream, kiddo. As loud as you can."

Jenny opened her mouth, and squeaked like a mouse. Her throat was gripped in terror, but then the Knight began to turn his head.

"Aaaaaahhhhh!"

The Knight turned towards the screams, his blood lust rising. He relished the power he can began to feel flooding his veins, his ego stoked by the fact that there was a cow terrified enough to scream at the mere sight of him.

And then fell down the ridge, in his euphoria having paid no attention to his footing whatsoever. The steep incline, combined with his fifty pounds of armor, meant he fell like a log, and he came to a stop only five feet from the terrified child, unconscious.

"Wasn't that awesome?" said the voice.

Jenny looked at the unconscious knight, and then to an apple sized rock that lay in between her and him.

Jenny picked it up, and stomped towards the Knight.

"Whoa whoa there, kiddo!" said the voice, "that's not something you want to do."

"Are you going to leave me if I do?" asked Jenny.

"'Fraid not, kiddo. You're family," said the voice.

"Then why not?" Jenny growled. She didn't have to think of a reason to be angry enough to kill, she just struggled to think of a single reason not to be.

"Because he's not a threat," said the voice.

"And if I kill him, he never will be."

"…true," said the voice, "but before you do, tell me. Are you going to kill him to end a threat, or because you can? Because of how it'll make you feel? Because you want revenge?"

Jenny felt her back begin to itch, "Doesn't! Matter!"

"Does to you," said the voice, "because it'll be with you your entire life. It will define you, kiddo, long after he's gone and in ways you could never predict. But it's your choice."

Jenny looked at the unconscious knight, and then to the rock she had grasped in her hand.

"Fine," Jenny took a step back.

"Besides, I can see this guy's future," said the voice, "his kids will give him a stroke before the next decade, and…"

Jenny smashed the rock into the Knight's groin.

"And apparently they'll be adopted."

"Where do I go now?"

It was nearly night before the voice in her head directed Jenny to an empty cave.

Any fears that she might be insane or delusional vanished when Jenny saw what lay inside. The walls had runes scribbled on them, but there was a small pond of fresh drinking water, an already dug fire-pit and glass jars filled with preservatives.

It wasn't a Hell infested LA, but it was almost as good.

"There's a spare bedroll up in the corner there," said the voice.

"Who are you?" Jenny removed the animal skin roll, spread it out on the ground and all but fell forward on it.

"Someone who had to choose between one friend or the world, or all her friends and all the world," said the voice, "but this is where I get to break even."

After a day of marching through the wood, Jenny had absolutely nothing left. As much as her mind demanded answers, but her body demanded rest. The voice seemed to grow more distant, but she could swear she felt a gentle hand running through her hair. Jenny barely managed to pry her own eyes open before drifting off, to see a beautiful woman kneeling down next to her, with a warm smile and sad eyes.

"It's safe in here, Jenny. And when it's not, you will be."

Jenny fell fast asleep, dreaming of red skies, of the stench of boiling blood and screams carried by the wind. She dreamed of better times.

The next day, the voice was gone. Jenny listened and listened and listened, but all she found was the sounds of the forest and her own voice.

Alone. Jenny brushed the tear from her eyes as she told herself it was all she had any right to expect anything else from life.

She passed the time by setting the few traps that she knew to string, ate a few of the surviving supplies and studied the cave paintings. They looked to be words of magic, but without knowing what they were intended for Jenny thought it best just to leave them be. For all she knew they might summon a dragon or some other monster.

With so little to do, Jenny managed to find enjoyment, peace, in absolutely nothing at all.

And she wondered, was this considered freedom? She didn't exactly hate it, but it didn't feel like she expected it to.

But it wasn't bad either.


	4. Found

Jenny was wrenched into the waking world when she felt someone grab her by the hair, and began dragging her towards the mouth of the cave.

Her first thought was that she'd been grabbed by a wild animal, a roving D'arkuur or Drokken beast that decided she was worth a nimble or had claimed the cave as its own.

But then Jenny felt the cold, hard calloused handed around her skull, heard a huff of contempt and then just wished it was a wild animal that had her.

Jenny thrashed wildly. She dragged her hands through the dirt, tearing her nails off just trying to slow the Knight down. She kicked and bucked and screamed but her captor didn't even flinch.

"Stupid half cow," chuckled the red, lizard skinned Honored Scar knight. He dragged Jenny by the roots of her hair out of the cave and into the harsh morning light, "you stumble upon a fully stocked cave and stay? Set traps to let me know you're nearby? Even animals know the best pest traps have bait."

She lied.

The thought was like a lightning bolt through Jenny's brain. The voice lied. It…she didn't care about her. Jenny remembered once seeing a cat, playing with a small mouse. The cat would chase the tiny thing into a corner, and then stand just far enough away so that the mouse thought it could still slip away.

Jenny realized that her entire life was like that of the mouse. She was just a pathetic plaything for the true masters. Falling into hell, meeting Lorne and Angel, then being flushed back home and into the hands of the enemy to die?

She was nothing more than some cosmic joke.

"We missed the cow that lived there first," the Knight threw Jenny on her back, and then bent down and pressed his knee on her stomach. Barely able to breath, Jenny could offer no resistance as the Knight took her hands, and bound them with rope, "we've caught a few since then, though. You're certainly no smarter than a cow. Hell, you're less than demon and cow from the looks of you."

Hands bound, Jenny could do nothing but cry. The Knight then threw her over his shoulder like she was a Persian Carpet.

Jenny didn't remember much of the ride. There was a horse, some racial slurs and then they came upon a camp of two dozen other Knights.

Jenny had held some small spark of hope to escape this single Knight. When she saw the rest, it died a cold and lonely death.

Jenny was thrown down in the center of the camp, and almost immediately the Knights swarmed, like sharks to blood.

"Too small! She'll barely last an hour!"

"A half cow? Barely worth the effort."

"Can't she even scream?"

Jenny cowered, head in hands as the Knights of the camp strolled by, all eager to see the first real catch in months. They loomed over the little girl, and every single one reveled in the sheer power they held over her. Just a glance was intoxicating to them.

"She might be a good warm up," Jenny watched as the Knights parted as one. Jenny didn't know the rank, but she watched as a blue skinned, horned demon knelt, bent down and cupped her chin. He examined her face carefully, "you are going to help your pathetic kind, child. You are going to be an example, in front of the entire kingdom, of what happens when a cow wanders off. What do you say about that?"

Jenny looked at the man's feet, then brought her head up and spit in his eye.

"Still prettier than you," Jenny managed to force out.

She expected the kick. His foot seemed to smash across her stomach, and she saw stars and threw up all over herself gasping for breath. She lay on her stomach, barely able to move. But her plan worked.

"Stupid, pathetic cow!" snarled the Knight as he looked down at her, while Jenny cradled the small hunting knife she'd liberated from his boot, "you think you're clever! That you could provoke me into killing you! You're not the first to try!"

"And if you don't step away right now, I promise you, she'll be the last."

Jenny recognized the voice, but her heart refused to accept it.

"Angel…"

The Souled Vampire came up from behind the Knights, and stood a dozen feet away, axe in one hand. Jenny saw how Angel tightened and flexed his other hand, covered in a spider's web of black veins.

"Excuse me?" said the Captain, "do you know to whom you speak? I am a Captain of the Honored Scars! By what right does a pathetic half cow like you think to threaten me? This waste of meat belongs to me!"

"She belongs to no one," said Angel, "but she belongs _with_ her family, which is me and mine. Hand her over, and I won't do what I really, really want to do to you."

"You should be more respectful, filth."

"Sorry, if I seem disrespectful, it's just because I don't respect you."

The Captain's chest tightened, and then he snarled, "I will never surrender my prey, and if you think…"

The Captain intended to say more, but struggled to speak when Angel's axe crashed into his skull with such force that he was thrown a good five feet back.

The Scarred Knights were stunned by the sudden, abrupt death of their leader. But then, instinct took over, swords were in hand and soon Angel was facing down many, many pointy things.

"Sorry, I was ready to suffer through his stupid ranting, I really was," said Angel, "but then I remembered that he kicked a little girl. So, anyone who doesn't run away, right now, doesn't walk away, at all."

"You're outnumbered."

"You're outclassed."

"Cocky fool!"

"Dragonfoodsayswhat?"

"What?"

The sky fell.

That was the first thought that went through Jenny's mind as something impossibly large and hot and angry landed around her like a giant cage.

The dragon Cordelia landed like a meteor, and swept aside soldiers with dismissive ease. With a flap of its wings, a dozen Knights were thrown back. A swipe of its tail dispatched even more, and once the Knights saw what they faced, a wave of terror overtook them all.

Jenny somehow kept enough presence of mind to use her stolen knife to cut through the ropes binding her wrist, and scrambled out from the dragon, and into the middle of a warzone.

Faith. Connor. Spike. Kate Lockley. The Groosalugg. Willow Rosenberg.

Those were the big names that Jenny would remember years later. The squad of Slayers not so much, but they tore through the 'Honored Scars' just as easily as everyone else. They were like a tsunami, crashing upon the Knights with the strength of nature and power of moral outrage.

"Hey there, sweetie, you can't go running off."

Jenny heard the voice just…appear behind her, and felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Panicked instinct took over and the young girl slashed out with her stolen knife.

Jenny hit flesh, but didn't stick around long enough to see what she'd hit, let alone whom. Jenny could already hear the battle winding down, and knew that this massive force would likely turn on her next.

Her first instinct was to flee, but her chest ached from where she'd been kicked, she could barely take a full breath and she'd vomited up what little food she had managed to eat. With no fuel in the tank, all she could do was stay close and maybe…

Well, Jenny had no idea what she'd do. She couldn't run, couldn't fight, the best she could maybe do was hide and listen. Jenny spotted some bushes in the distance, and scrambled into them like they were a security blanket.

"Everyone accounted for? Connor? Kate?"

"I'm good, dad."

"Same. The movies were right, boom stick does beat primitive screw-heads."

"I'm good too."

"Didn't ask, Spike.

"Right. So, anyone remember the little bird we're supposed to find?"

"I'm tempted to leave her here, she cut me in the boob!"

"I admire her ability to hit such a small target."

"Spike! Not funny! And they're not small!"

"Everyone just take a breath. She's nearby, according to the artifact."

Jenny wrinkled her nose. Artifact? They had magic? Could this get any worse?

"I'll find her, dad."

Connor's eyes scanned the battlefield, starting where he'd last seen the young girl and with casual ease he turned his head towards the bushes where Jenny hid, and his eyes became level with hers.

Jenny scrambled backwards out of the bushes like a startled animal. She broke into a dead run when she heard the crunching of leaves behind her, eyes darting back and forth for some sort of refuge.

Jenny spotted a hollowed out tree stump, and thought her prayers had been answered.

She just barely squeezed through the opening, and turned around, facing the entrance. Gripping the knife, and shivering for no shortage of reasons, Jenny prepared to make her last stand.

"She's in there."

"Ya think?"

"Jenny?" She recognized the voice as Angel, "we're not here to hurt you. Could you please come out?"

"Go away!" Jenny screamed.

"I could just magic her out of there, ya know. Pop! Like a wet bar of soap, no fuss no muss."

Jenny held her breath, and decided that she truly hated magic.

"I'd rather not have her start her new life by being kidnapped," said Angel.

"Well, we aren't leaving her here after all that bloody hard work, either!"

"Give me a moment alone with her, Dad. I'll see if I can reach her."

"Connor?"

"Just trust me. Faith, maybe you can stick around too."

Jenny heard the people marching off, and breathed a sigh of relief. She could tell that two people had stayed, but it was still better odds than a few moments ago.

"Jenny? I'm Connor, and I just want to talk, okay?"

"Go! Away!"

Jenny felt Connor sitting down on the opposite side of the trunk, casually ignoring her request.

"Why?" said Connor, "do you really want to stay here? I haven't been here long, but the stories I've heard make this place sound like no fun at all."

Jenny swallowed, her throat burning dry. She knew what would happen if she got her wish, if they listened to her and just left and went back to their world. But the pain she felt burning in her chest grabbed her like a vice. She felt like she was being torn in two, and no matter what choice she made would just mean more suffering.

"Yes!" Jenny said unconvincingly.

"Before we leave, could you tell us why you don't want to leave?"

Jenny was silent.

"Please? We've come an awful long way. The least we deserve is an explanation."

"…he lied," Jenny growled.

"Who?"

"Angel! He said he was real and I was safe, that he cared and he lied!" Jenny screamed with the pure rage and anger only a child could feel. Just the pain of thinking about it hurt worse than the whips.

"Ah," Connor sighed, "I don't think that's it."

"Shut up!"

"Can I tell you something about myself, Jenny?" Connor said, "I grew up in a bad place like this. Tough, always fighting for survival. Living with only one person looking out for you, who cares and sometimes not even that. I know what it does to you. Same with Faith here. We only had childhoods in the technical sense.

"See, Angel? I think he did hurt you. Deeply. He never meant to, but he hurt you worse than anyone before. Am I right?"

Jenny nodded, though Connor couldn't see it.

"I know because he did the same to me and Faith. People like us, we build a wall around our hearts without even realizing it. We build it out of our pain and suffering, and after living with it for so long, we just get used to it. We don't even notice it pain after a while, not until anything but suffering, like actually feeling happy, hope, is what really makes us hurt.

And then Angel comes along. And he looks at you, he looks through you, through everything you've done and decides that you're worth it. After struggling every day to convince yourself that you have worth, that you matter, he just glances at you and decides you're worth something. That you have value as a person, and worth fighting for. So you let your guard down."

Jenny shook her head, and wiped away tears. But her throat was too dry to even speak.

"But all the hate, all that anger has to go somewhere. Because when he fails, and he's not perfect and he will fail, you lash out. All that pain comes rushing back, and you think rejecting the person who gave you all that hope will somehow make it stop. That by rejecting him, you can deny everything good he makes you see in yourself."

Faith examined her nails, and tried not to think on her own past. While she would forever be in Angel's debt, she never much cared to really reflect on why she was so damn intent on hurting one of the only people who actually believed in her.

"I've been where you are, Jenny. Believe me when I say it gets better. Angel may not be perfect, but he will always come for you. He will always try to protect you. And he will always care about you. And he won't be the only one."

Connor waited, and prayed that he got through.

"That was pretty sweet," Faith said, finally.

"Tell him I said that and we'll have words."

"Almost went into testosterone withdraw there, huh?"

Connor waved his hand dismissively, "Think I made it through?"

"You aimed a little high. Let me give it a shot," Faith said. She went to the front of the stump, and knelt down until she was eye to eye with the sobbing girl.

"Hey, little green, name's Faith. Don't suppose you want to come out here, do you?"

Jenny shook her head defiantly.

"Didn't think so," Faith sighed, "I've been in the same position as you. Well, not hiding in a stump, but, ya know. Alone, hunted, and surrounded by a world I thought hated me. And then, out of nowhere, like a bolt of lightning, you find people who are willing to fight for you, to die for you. People you barely know, and who barely know you, and are willing to do anything for you. To fight for you, to die for you.

"But all you can think of is if they knew, if they just _knew_ what you had to do to survive, to live one more day, then they'd turn on you. They wouldn't understand, not even try, just judge you, then throw you away like trash."

Faith reached her hand out to the trembling child.

"Well, you're wrong. We want ya, Jenny, horns and all. And whatever you've had to do, whatever you've done to survive, there is nothing that will change that, nothing Angel cannot help you come back from. And we will do everything in our power to make sure you never have to do it again."

Jenny set down the dagger, and took Faith's hand.

"Well hello there Jenny," Faith looked the quivering girl, absolutely filthy, covered in sweat, vomit, snot and dirt while shaking like a leaf. Acting on instincts she didn't even know she had, Faith scooped Jenny up into her arms and into a hug, "today's the first day of the bestening of your life."

"Bestening?" Connor gave Faith a curious look.

"Hey, every word starts somewhere."

Jenny buried her face in Faith's shoulder, still weeping. The Slayer suspected that even though Jenny had managed to reach out to her, she was still terrified of what was going to happen next. The line between hope and despair was a thin one, like a terrifying high wire act.

Connor was absolutely right. Sometimes hope was a fuel for terror.

Faith rubbed Jenny's back gently, like one might do with a baby. Faith knew it was a little silly, but she suspected Jenny wouldn't complain about some basic human contact.

What Faith didn't expect was the mass of scars that made it feel like she was running her hand over old torn leather, or to feel the young girl whimper. Faith moved her hand like she'd just touched an oven eye, and tensed for Jenny's reaction.

But nothing came. The girl still had her head buried in her chest, but she actually seemed to be calming down some.

"Hey guys!" Connor called out as they rejoined the others, "look who we found!"

"Well hey alright! Baby boy isn't so useless after all!"

Spike began clapping, followed by Angel, Groo and Kate. Jenny lifted her head off of Faith's head, and saw how her team of rescuers were divided into two groups. Angel's group was genuinely smiling, while the second group, made up entirely of females, seemed to just be going along with the clapping almost mechanically.

Angel took a step towards Faith and Jenny, but the Slayer gave him a slight shake of the head, with a little 'not yet' look.

"Good job, son," Angel gave Connor a slap on the back, "how'd you do it?"

"I just told her what a big dork you were," Connor shrugged, "she just had to see it for herself."

"Well, now that we're a big happy family again, how about we head home?" Willow suggested.

"Hey Red, how about you give little green a once over before we leave?" Faith put Jenny down, but the girl still clung to her hand like it was a life raft. Faith squeezed back, but held firm in a way that made it clear she wasn't about to let Jenny run.

Jenny didn't possess the refined magical senses that her full demon blooded kin possessed, but she was still able to perceive magic on a conscious but instinctive level.

And to her, Willow was like a nuclear reactor of magic. And with each step the young woman took, the power that rolled off her in waves seemed to double.

"I'm sorry," Jenny said submissively, "this cow never meant…"

"Don't worry about it," Willow said with a warm smile that Jenny could literally feel wash over her, "I figure I owed you one anyway. If I'd been faster getting us into position, that mean man wouldn't have hurt you."

Jenny didn't quite accept the logic, but she nodded anyway.

"Lets give you a little magic make-over, okay? Lets start with the easy stuff first, kiddo. You could use a facial."

Willow tapped Jenny on the head, and all the dirt, vomit and sweat fell from her as if it was a second skin. She looked down at her dress, the one that she liked, one of the few decorative things in her life that was meant for her, and saw that it was as good as new.

"Can I see your hands?"

Jenny, hesitated, but she let go of Faith and held her hands out, and for the first time saw just how damaged they'd become. Her wrists were raw and bruised from where they'd been bound, her nails were just gone, replaced by blood and dirt while there were countless scratches all over her hands and fingers.

The young girl was actually surprised by the condition of her hands, and when she thought about, just how much they hurt.

"This will tickle a little," Willow held her hands over Jenny's.

Faith watched as the blood and dirt removed itself from Jenny's hands, her cuts and scratches changed from jagged flesh to smooth skin and her nails returned to the tips of her fingers flawlessly. Even Jenny's rough and calloused hands became the soft skin it should have always been.

Faith smirked. Willow had been the Slayer Army's self appointed cleric (such a _nerd_) for so long that this simple act of healing took no more effort than crossing the street, but to Jenny it might as well be a Christmas miracle, and no doubt would go a long way to earning her trust.

"Better?"

The young girl nodded, numb with shock. Her hands were in such good condition that she literally barely recognized them.

"Lets take a look at those ribs, okay?"

Jenny held her breath as she felt the energy flowing over her lower body, and when she breathed out it seemed to dispel all the aches and pain.

"Better?"

Jenny threw her arms around Willow and wept tears of joy.

"Umm, a yes would have sufficed," Willow was about to return the hug, when Faith grabbed her wrist.

"That was just the warm up," said Faith.

"Something wrong?" Angel asked.

"We just got one last thing to address," Faith nodded towards Jenny's back, littered in scars, "then we can get back to LA."

"I…" Willow could only see the top half of the scars, but that was still enough to make her sick, "I need a little privacy to do this."

Faith found them a stump, and sat Jenny down. The little girl trembled, but was as quite as a church mouse.

"We're almost done," Faith brushed the hair out of Jenny's face. Her horns worked well in place of hairclips, Faith decided.

"Okay. Jenny, I'm going to take a quick look before I get started," Willow unzipped the back of Jenny's dress, and only avoided throwing up because it might have upset the little girl she was supposed to be helping.

Angel had told warned her, but there were really no words that could have truly prepared Willow for what she found. To describe Jenny's back as scarred would be like describing the Atlantic Ocean as a body of water.

Jenny's back looked like a lunar landscape after someone used it as a drag strip. There were long longs crisscrossing Jenny's back, and more than a few overlapped. Laying over them were what could only be described as craters, spots were the open wounds had become infected, requiring the boils to be lanced and drained.

"Why …how could anyone do this to a child…?" Willow couldn't help but ask aloud.

"The shock collars become unreliable if a pyrite rock is placed in between the collar and receiver gem," Jenny said, "or so I heard. The whip is seen as a better deterrent, cheap and more cost effective. It's smart."

"That's one word for it," Willow chewed her lip, "okay Jenny, this may feel a little weird, but once I start it will be better if I finish."

"You just squeeze my hand if it hurts," said Faith.

Willow summoned her magic, and began focusing the energy through her hands and into Jenny's back. Though she had no shortage of experience when it came to stitching up wounds, removing and healing scar tissue was another matter entirely. This wasn't flesh that needed to be mended and restored, but removed entirely.

Willow infused Jenny's back with magic until it was as pliable as clay to her, and then went about her work. She smoothed the rough skin back into Jenny's body, while reconnecting nerves that had been severed. The work was more precise than most surgeries, but to Willow the act of healing was intuitive, second nature by now. She was in the zone.

-plink!-

"Ahhh!" Jenny cried out.

"Kid? You okay?" Faith looked at Jenny, then to Willow. The Jewish witch slowly withdrew her magic, taking care not to do more damage.

"It…hurt," Jenny looked at Faith, completely dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry sweetie," said Willow, "I didn't mean to, but…"

"No, it hurt before, and now it doesn't," Jenny blinked back tears, "it hurt so much and I just got used to it and I _barely even noticed_. How…?"

Willow glanced down at the ground, and saw a sharp, ebony object that had not been there before. She picked up what looked like a shark's tooth, but jagged and serrated.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Faith felt her stomach churn.

"…if I had to guess, Jenny's owners weren't satisfied with a regular whip, and some bits got caught in her…,"

Willow couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence.

"I'm sorry," said Jenny, though she wasn't certain why. All she knew were two authority figures standing next to her were angry because of her, so logically it meant she was in the wrong.

"You ain't got nothing to be sorry for," said Faith, "and she ain't got no owners, Red. Finish the hell up, and lets get the hell out of here before I decide to burn everything that isn't us."

Willow nodded, "I could not agree more, Faith. Okay Jenny, just sit still, and I'll have you like new in a few minutes."

Jenny nodded, unable to believe what was happening. As Willow continued her work, and as she went about repairing the torn flesh, she saw three more sharps things that had no place in a little girl's flesh fall to the ground. Seeing that disgusting sight actually helped Willow keep her focus, and Jenny felt the pain that she'd just grown accustomed to just evaporate like it had never been, and in its place she felt a tingling, static feeling that was soon replaced with almost nothing at all.

Her back had been a map of pain and scar tissue for so long, Jenny didn't even recognize how it was supposed to feel otherwise.

"Okay, done," Willow wiped the sweat from her brow. She'd never tried something as complicated as this before, but the results seemed to speak for themselves.

"Can you feel this?" Willow slowly traced her finger down Jenny's back.

"…yes," Jenny said in disbelief, "how?"

"Magic."

Jenny wiped the tears from her eyes. She loved magic now.

"I..I don't know how to repay this, I…"

"Are you thankful?" Willow stood up and ruffled Jenny's hair.

"Yes!"

"Then you've repaid me."

Jenny looked dumbstruck, "That's not a fair exchange of energy and effort for such a major…"

"Is for me. Ready to go?" Willow offered Jenny her hand. The young hybrid, still baffled by the act of compassion, took it eagerly.

The Slayer and the Witch led the little girl back to the rest of their party, and for the first time Jenny realized the enormity of the group that had come for her. The half dozen Slayers, Angel, Spike, Connor and all the rest. Armed, courageous and all intent on rescuing her.

"Okay travelers, hope you visited the souvenir shop," Willow was beyond exhausted, but opening a portal to earth was like crossing the street, "because next stop, earth!"

Faith led Jenny through first, and the rest of the warriors filed behind them single file. Within minutes it was only Willow and Angel who remained.

"Hey, where'd Fabio go?"

"Groo decided to stick around. Something about Knights hunting down mixed bloods gets under his skin, which is good because do you know how expensive dragon food is?"

A pause.

"Angel? Not a taxi here," said Willow.

"Sorry, just thinking."

"What about?"

The two stepped through the portal.

"About how all this was just the easy part."


	5. Custody

Custody

"You can go to sleep in a moment, Jenny," said Willow. She concentrated, and formed an emerald orb in her hand.

Jenny felt her eyes drawn to it, and her mind began to fog.

"She won't remember anything?" asked Kate. She had her eyes clenched shut, as suggested by Willow.

"Nothing and everything," Willow said, "the spell unlocks her memory, but she won't recall anything she said. You can open your eyes now."

"Magic…" Kate couldn't keep herself from glancing the sphere, and then to Jenny, her eyes glazed over, "half the time I hate it, half the time I'd kill to have had it during an investigation. And I'm honestly not sure which it is, this time. Usually, something like this is done slowly, and for damn good reason."

"She won't remember, I'm on a clock and it'd take more time than I have to get this information otherwise," said Willow.

"Alright," Kate took a breath, "Jenny, please tell me about Pylea."

_Later _

Kate and Willow felt the nervous energy as they came down into the lobby.

Lorne had a drink in hand, Spike and Faith were exchanging war stories, while Willow's bodyguard, Satsu sat in a far corner lotus style. Angel paced the lobby, only coming to a stop when he saw the two women coming down the stairs. Everyone else, from the rest of the Slayer Squad and Conner, had likely gone out for a bite to eat or just out.

"So what's the word, Red?"

"Well," Willow glanced aside. She was used to delivering good new, and she had handled bad news. She just wasn't exactly sure where this fell, "there's some good news, and then…other kind of news."

"Just come out and say it," said Angel.

"Well, she wasn't sexually abused at all," Willow said.

"That's…something," Angel said flatly.

"Well, we only know that because she witnessed it happen to other slaves. And uh, she knows how she was conceived. Fred never said anything, but because apparently being a slave doesn't mean you can't be an asshole," Willow said, "long, traumatic story short, she's been victimized in ways we can barely understand, used to being beaten for imagined offenses, she's probably suffering post traumatic stress, her ability to form emotional bonds is likely crippled at best, she has no ability to defy authority figures in any meaningful way, and uhh…you're relying on magic, a Sunnydale graduate and ex-cop for an expert mental evaluation."

"Well, for what it's worth, none of that comes as a surprise," Angel nodded.

Willow took a deep breath, "I didn't think so. Look, Angel…"

"No, not happening. Not under any circumstances," Angel growled in a soft tone that drew everyone's attention.

"I think she should come with us," Willow finished.

"Whoa, hold up there!" Lorne shot up like a bullet, "England? I mean, it's great for the horses, but not a little girl! We're family!"

"Lorne's right," Angel said, "that little girl is part of our family, our responsibility and we're not about to ship her off to live with strangers!"

"You're just as much strangers to her as we are," Willow observed.

"I'm not!" Lorne said defensively, "heck, I took that girl away from her masters and gave her her own room!"

"And she's still scared of you," said Willow with a heavy heart, "you're green, and you have authority. She doesn't see much difference between you and her old masters. And that's less racism and more a hard wired survival mechanism, really."

"Oh."

Angel tried not to see the crushed look in Lorne's face.

"Look, that doesn't matter. Fred was one of us," Angel said, "what would you do if you found out Xander had a kid? Buffy? Would you let someone else raise them?"

"Hey, spoiler alert," Spike raised his hand, "you guys didn't. Dawn, remember?"

"Hey, not to interrupt what's got to be the oddest custody battle this side of a soap opera," Faith said, "but what about Fred's parents? They're her blood, right?"

"She's lime green," Angel said, "with horns. No offense Lorne…"

"None taken."

"…but her parents might not react well."

"They lost their daughter," Faith said, "I think they'd be overjoyed to have some small part of her, ya know. And Jesus, why am I the optimist in this whole situation?"

Spike, Angel and Lorne exchanged a guilty glance that no one missed.

"Fred's parents," Angel took a moment to force the words from his mouth, "they don't know she's dead."

"What…?" Faith slapped her forehead in disbelief, "who are you and what have you done with Angel?"

"They're…normal people," Angel explained, "good, _normal_ people. And yes, I should have told them! And I will, once I find a good way to explain how she was killed, how she's dead but her body is still walking around occupied by something else."

"I can't believe you!" Willow snapped, "they're her parents! They have a right to know!"

"They do, but don't you go throwing stones," Spike strolled across the lobby to Willow, until they were only a foot apart, "I remember you, Xander and Tara covering up Buffy's death for all official purposes. You remember that, hmm?"

"Spike, that was different and you know it!"

"Why? Because it's you?" Angel said, "look, I appreciate your concern, I do, but you won't change my mind. She belongs here, with her family. End of discussion."

"What family?" said Willow, "Wesley and Fred dead! Your friend Gunn is in a coma! Your demi-goddess is wearing the body of Jenny's mother and I don't think you want her around!"

"I've got Kate, Lorne, Connor and Spike," Angel said, "it's not like I need to take out an ad in the classified. And, strange thing, I don't see you offering to help."

Willow said nothing.

"That's what it boils down to, isn't it? You don't trust me. You don't trust us."

Satsu rose from her lotus position silently.

"You took over the most evil law firm on the planet," Willow said softly, "so yes, I have doubts. We…have doubts."

"I did it for the sake of the world," Angel snarled, "and do you know what I did? I managed to kill the greatest collection of evil on the planet all in one night. I broke their power in this world. You should be God damn thanking me!"

"And they took LA to hell because of it!" Willow replied, "an entire city and everyone in it, millions of people, to hell itself! What do you think they'd do to a little girl? Angel…I know what happened to Connor, I don't want that to happen again!"

"Don't you dare," Angel was an inch from Willow's face before she could take another breath, "don't you dare use my son against me like that!"

Satsu was about to move, when Faith lightly touched her shoulder.

"Angel, take a deep breath, or however you calm the hell down, and step back," Faith said, "now, please."

"Sorry," Angel said with mock sincerity.

"I'm just trying to think about that girl upstairs!" Willow said, "what are you going to tell her when she asks why her mother never came for her? When she asks who that person is, walking around in her mother's body?"

Lorne shook his head, while Spike clenched his fists. Angel, however, did nothing to disguise his anger.

"And what will you tell her?" Angel growled, "you didn't know Fred, not like us. She was family, and so is Jenny. We loved her, just like you love Buffy, just like you love Dawn."

"I know, but we have people, an organization…"

"Really? Good for you. So how's Dana then?"

"Dana?"

"Insane Slayer, chopped off Spike's hands," Angel explained.

"Little like Drusilla, but not as much fun at parties or decent conversation," Spike offered, "don't tell me you have so many wacko Slayers you forget one, eh?"

"Your boy Andrew picked her up, and was kind enough to leave a veiled threat. Ringing a bell now?" said Angel.

"She's…a work in progress," said Willow.

"Oh good, so Jenny has to get in line behind her for help," Spike said, "bullocks to that!"

"Okay, I think we're careening towards the point of pointlessness," Faith rubbed her eyes, "this isn't a getting us anywhere. So lets try something else."

Faith grabbed Angel and Willow by the collar, and shoved them both out the door.

"This ain't a public debate, it's a little girl's future," growled Faith, "don't come back inside until you reach a decision like mature God damn adults."

Faith slammed the door in their face, and felt the eyes of everyone come to rest on her.

"What? I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight."

oooOOooo

"She's right," sighed Angel, "this isn't about us."

"But here we are, making decisions we have no right to make," Willow said, "remember when we used to steal military supplies and build giant bombs to kill demons? What happened to that? I missed that."

"Yeah, good times. These days they call it terrorism."

"Yeah. Though it was disturbingly easy to make…"

"Willow, before we continue…I mean, I have to ask…" Angel shook his head, trying to assemble the right words in his head, "about Fred…"

"You've been wanting to ask it for days now," said Willow, "we're in private. No one can hear us, trust me. So go ahead."

"Willow…"

"We've tried moral arguments, lets see where brutal honesty gets us."

"We called you looking for help, when Fred was first infected," Angel said, "Giles said you were on the astral plane. Was that true?"

"No," Willow replied, "I was in another dimension, and Giles was in a hurry organizing a rescue. A squad had been lured there to get me away from Buffy. Evil vampire wizard, long story. We'd never abandon you, even if we didn't trust you. Your turn."

"Truth? I'm terrified," Angel said, "I know how dangerous my life is. I collect enemies like some people collect stamps. You say you know what happened to Connor? Well, I lived it. And it nearly destroyed me. And if I could think of a better solution for Jenny, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Then why won't you let her come with us?" Willow's voice was just short of begging, "I didn't know Fred like you did, I know that, but I did know her. She was cute and nice and funny and so I don't want to feel like I'm leaving her daughter on an artillery range surrounded by a minefield!"

"She's in danger no matter where she is because of who she is," Angel replied.

"We can protect her!" Willow said "I've saved the world a few times too!"

"Not like us," said Angel, "brutal truth, we failed to save her mother. We failed Fred, and there's no getting around that. It's something we still feel today, and will feel for the rest of our lives no matter how long we live. And because of that, we will fight harder than anyone else on the face of the planet to protect her."

"I know that, but…" Willow sighed, "fine, brutal truth, Xander, Dawn, Buffy, I don't love them like family. Everything we've been through, family just isn't an adequate word. I could never trust my mother to do for me what Buffy and the rest of the gang do for me every day. I…I can barely talk to her these days."

"I'm sorry…"

"But my mom's still family. That little girl though, she needs family. Not a band of warriors, but family, and no matter what we tell ourselves, that's not what we are to one another."

"Like you said, we're more," Angel replied, "tell me, when you took in Dawn, was it solely because you saw her as family, or because you were afraid some dumb ass demon or pathetic vampire would come after her, for being the Slayer's sister? Because you had to protect her?"

"…yes."

"I know what you're afraid of, Willow. But I'm not about to pretend that I'm Adam West, or Val Kilmer and she's my Robin."

"Adam West? Really?"

Angel rubbed the bridge of his nose, "My point is, I swear that I will do everything I can to build a wall between the good that I do, and the life I intend to give her. And yes, that wall will be torn down, I can't stop that but I'll build it back up each and every single time."

"Angel, I don't doubt that, but…"

"And I know what I'll tell her when she asks why Fred didn't come for her," Angel continued, "because losing a child is like a disease, it creeps into every part of you and eats away at everything that makes you you. It breaks you down worse than any pain, little by little. And that after only a few days, you consider doing anything to make that pain go away and damn the consequences."

"Angel…" Willow gently took her friend's cold hand, offering what little comfort she could.

"That little girl is my priority now. I thought that was clear when I specifically asked that Buffy not be made a part of the rescue mission."

"It was," said Willow, "but I don't think you really understand her circumstances. She's smart, hell, she's brilliant, but she isn't Fred. She can use complete sentences and proper grammar and she might talk like an adult but emotionally she is a _child_ who's suffered in ways not even Angelus could imagine. And you're going to have to shoulder it all."

"I know," said Angel, "but I've bared the weight of the world on my shoulder for strangers. How can I not do the same for Fred?"

Willow sighed, "Then all I can really do is wish you luck."

"Should we go inside and spread the good news?"

Angel made a polite, 'ladies first' gesture.

"So what's the verdict, Angel Face?"

Angel glanced at Willow, then to his friend.

"We agreed that it would be best if Jenny stays with us."

"Bloody right," Spike muttered.

"Well, lets hear it for illegally harboring a minor," Kate said with a quick roll of her eyes.

"Hey, if that's the worse felony that's committed around here, consider yourself lucky," Faith observed, "so we're all agreed then, one big happy family?"

"Lets hope," said Angel.

"Got room in this pad for one more?"

"Uhh, what?"

"Red's right, you guys need some extra muscle, preferably some that won't burst into flame 'cause of daylight," Faith said, "plus, I'm getting kinda tired of all the other slayers cramping my style. So I'm willing to help out around here, if you want me."

"You're always welcome here," Angel said.

"Faith, a moment?"

Willow and Faith drew in close, and in a hushed tone, Willow said, "What are you doing?"

"Yeah, I know this is sudden, Red, but I think I ought to stick around," Faith said, "you guys got enough muscle without me, no worries."

"Faith, I don't think you understand," said Willow, "if you stick around, then, in good conscience, you will have to _stick around_."

"A kid's like a chia pet, right?" Faith shrugged, "a little food, a little water, and she'll be fine."

"Faith…"

"Okay, this is bullshit," Faith crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Willow, "look, I'm tired of being the team pit bull, and I'm sure you can find another alpha bitch. And while you are probably a million times smarter than me, and all I got to my education is a prison GED, but don't think you know better about screwed up kids than me, Will."

"Fine, fine," Willow shook her head and stepped away. The more complicated the situation got, the more she just wanted to be done with it. It was a little selfish, she knew that, but she did her best. That had to count for something, right?

"Now, how about we let the kid know what's going on?" suggested Faith.

"She's sleeping," Willow said.

"It's like, seven," Faith said, "

"She had a long day," Angel said.

"Yeah, take my word on this Angel, 'I want to go to bed' is kid code for hiding," Faith said, "but hey, what do I know? You guys are right, lets let the kid go to sleep wondering exactly is goin' on around her. That'll make for a great night."

Willow and Angel exchanged an awkward glance at one another.

"She's like an annoying broken clock," said Willow, "though, actually, I think all broken clocks are annoying."

"She's right," Angel turned to Lorne, "were you able to get it?"

"Angel, I'm offended! I just had trouble finding the right one," Lorne said with mock hurt. He went to Angel's office, and returned with a small, gift wrapped box. He handed it to Angel, but kept his grip for a moment.

"Angel," Lorne leaned in close, very conscious of the eyes on them, "are you sure about this? You're sailing into uncharted territories here."

Angel yanked the box from Lorne's grip, "I'm sure."

"Angel? One last thing?" said Faith, "the sprout's a little mad at you right now. I know it's stupid kid logic, but just take it, okay?"

"Faith…"

"Just trust me on this, okay? Take it, and she moves on. That's what we gotta focus on."

"I'd take her word for it, mate," Spike offered, "she's the bloody foster care whisperer, seems like."

"Bite me, Billy Idol," Faith gave Spike a one finger salute, "and good luck."

oooOOooo

Willow and Angel stood outside Jenny's door, looking at the door knob as if it were a branding iron.

"She can't hear us, right?" Angel whispered.

"Nope. You told me she liked to spy, so I kinda cast a spell so she wouldn't hear us…"

"Good," Angel looked at the present in his hand, to the door and then to Willow, "would it be cliché to say that I'd rather fight an army of vampires than open that door?"

"Yes, the cliché of clichés, king of clichés even," Willow replied, "also, same here."

"You go first, then."

"What? You go first!"

"You go, you're a girl. You can walk in on other girls unannounced, and I can go it with guys. There's a whole social code thing."

"I'm a woman!" Willow defended, "and, I hate that you're right."

Willow took a breath, and cracked the door open, "Jenny, sweetie? We need to talk."

Willow heard feet rush across the carpet, the bounce of the box spring and the sound of a blanket being tossed. But rather than calling attention to the obvious subterfuge, Willow opened the door slowly, and waved Angel in.

Jenny pretended to wake up, turn over and gave them her best innocent look.

"Talk about what?" Jenny pretended to rub the sleep from her eyes, and sat up, back up against the headboard and knees drawn to her chest. She radiated nervous energy.

"About what happens now," said Angel.

"You'll just lie," Jenny snapped.

"I never meant to lie or hurt you, Jenny. But you're right, and I'm sorry," Angel said patiently. He watched as Jenny's body language shifted, as if someone threw a switch, from angry and defiant to meek and passive. Her head became bowed, and Jenny was unable to meet their eyes.

"…are you my masters now?" Jenny asked.

"You don't have any masters, not anymore," said Angel. He knew that Lorne had told her exactly that, but only now did he see how reluctant she was to actually believe it, because Jenny was looking at him like he'd grown another head, "but we will be taking care of you."

"Angel was friends with your mother," Willow offered.

"But she's dead," Jenny said, so matter of factly it was like a dagger in Angel's heart. It came as little surprise, the casual acceptance. Fred had likely 'died' as far as Jenny was concerned, the day they were separated. But it still hurt and just felt wrong that Jenny was more at peace with Fred's death than Angel himself felt.

"But we still love her," Angel said, "and she was never our slave. She was part of our family."

"Family?" Jenny examined Angel with eyes lit with far too much intelligence and insight.

"Family, to us, is more than just blood," explained Angel. He handed Jenny the present.

"What's this?"

"It's a gift. For you," said Angel.

Jenny looked at the box, examining it carefully. When she saw the tape at the bottom, and begun to tug at it.

"Here, let me help," Willow took the box, and tore away at the wrapping paper. Jenny's eyes went wide at the destruction, but said nothing when she saw Angel's lack of reaction.

Jenny opened the box, removed a picture frame, and gasped.

It was a picture of Angel Investigations, with Angel, Gunn, Wesley, Lorne and, most importantly, in the center, Fred.

To Jenny, it was like a fog had been lifted from her mind, and a thousand blurry memories of her mother snapped into focus all at once. Tears of joy slid down Jenny's, and she traced her hand over the picture frame.

"She's smiling," Jenny whispered, "she was happy?"

"She was," Angel said, though he can feel his gut twist. The picture was a gamble, and he wasn't entirely certain that it paid off just yet.

"She used to be so sick," Jenny said, never removing her eyes from the picture, "she talked to the crops, she talked about another world called Texas, she gave me her food, and she said kisses make the collar shocks hurt less and it did, and…and she loved me."

Angel was glad he no longer had to breathe, as it concealed his sigh of relief.

"There's something else in there for you."

With supreme effort, Jenny tore her eyes away from the framed photograph, and saw a golden locket still resting in the box. She carefully set down the picture, and removed the locket. She popped it open, and when she saw what was inside, began to giggle.

"This is mine?"

It was another picture of Fred, and only Fred, smiling with that bright, infectious smile of hers and waving at the camera.

"Of course, sweetie. Here, let me help you with that," Willow gently took the necklace, and secured it around Jenny's neck.

The young girl looked as if someone had told her she'd won the lottery. Angel had little doubt that before today, Jenny never even conceived that there'd be a day that she would be given jewelry, let alone wear it herself.

For a brief moment, Jenny felt like royalty.

"I'm not going to be able to stick around," Willow said, "but I'll be able to stay in contact, Angel will show you how."

"Thank you," Jenny wiped the tears from her face, "both of you. I don't hurt and I can feel my back and she was happy and I don't understand why I deserve any of this…"

"You do," said Angel, "trust us on that, Jenny. You're family now."

"Thank you," Jenny felt her attention drawn to her locket like a magnet, and Willow and Angel suddenly got the impression that they were intruding.

"We'll…work out the details of everything later," Angel said. He and Willow quickly excused themselves, and Jenny barely noticed.

"Well," Angel closed the door, "that went better than we had any right to expect."

"Well, we do deal with magic and demons," said Willow, "we had to see a miracle sometime, right?"

oooOOooo

Jenny set the picture frame up on the nightstand, and ran the locket through her hands all night.

Eventually, Jenny Burkle fell asleep, with her mother's smile warding off all nightmares for the first time in years.

Note:

Just to clarify, this fic will span the entire Angel cast at one point or another. So expect Illryia, Lorne, Wesley and yes, Fred to show up eventually. And the more feedback, the faster they show!


	6. Connor

_Just FYI, this series (obviously) diverges from canon after LA returns to earth, and will go fro, story to drabble as I want it to. You've been warned!_

Connor

Jenny knew everyone thought their big brother was the best, but Jenny was certain hers actually was.

To Jenny, Faith was the wall that protected her, that fought for her. Angel was the guiding hand that led her forward, that explained the unknown and uncertain.

And Connor? He was the steady constant at her side, who just simply _understood_.

He does it without asking a question, without prying and without making Jenny remember what it was like before, surviving a hell dimension.

Connor is the best big brother because he doesn't bat an eye when she eats bugs. It's a habit both Faith and Angel try to discourage, but never Connor. He, without judgment, simply tells her which bugs are worth it (cockroaches, ants, grasshoppers, etc), which ones to stay away from (bees, ticks, etc) and which ones taste bad and are just better left alone for their beauty (butterflies, lady bugs, etc).

_Connor is the best big brother, because he understands Jenny and the world at the same time._

Jenny learns this when they're taking a walk one day, and a shoplifter bursts out of the store and slams into Jenny like a runaway freight train. The man gets up without giving Jenny a second glance, even stepping on her ankle without either noticing or caring.

Connor is at her side in seconds, helped her up, and it's his firm grip that keeps her from running after the man.

"Stay still," Connor forced Jenny to sit on a nearby bench, and checked her for injuries.

"Connor, we have to help that man!" Jenny tried to get past Connor.

"Don't worry, I saw a blue boy tackle him," Connor replied, with a firm arm keeping her seated, "he's lucky I didn't get him first."

"Connor," Jenny's voice was low, mindful of all the people around them. Her voice was laced with fear for the man who'd literally stepped on her, "that man stole food!"

"So?"

"So we have to help him!" Jenny said. She simply could not wrap her head around the idea that anyone would steal food and risk the consequences of getting caught, without good reason.

There's no confusion on Connor's face as he shakes his head. There was no real commerce in the Hell dimension that he grew up in, but he still understood how precious food was. It was the most baffling thing to him too, "Don't worry about it. You watch those cop shows with Faith, right?"

"Yeah."

"And has anyone ever gotten in major trouble for stealing food in those?"

Jenny rolled her eyes, "Those aren't realistic! There aren't any demons or magic or vampires anywhere!"

"…point," Connor said, "but tell me this, have you ever seen any guards at the grocery store?"

"No."

"Then I bet you two Snickers that he's not in major trouble."

Jenny recognized that mischievous smile on Connor's face, "No!"

Later, Angel and Kate take her to the precinct, discreetly and Jenny sees that Connor was right. The man was still alive, with all his limbs attached and Jenny finds herself amazed how easily Connor knew the truth.

_Connor was the best big brother because sometimes, he understands when he shouldn't fight for her._

It happens when they're in the park one day. Connor had planned to take his new girlfriend and Jenny out on a picnic. But Becky got called away on a family emergency, so it's just Connor and Jenny.

And that's just fine with Connor. They go to the park, have a nice lunch, fly a kite and do all the things Connor remembered families did together (but he never really did himself).

It's a great day, until Connor hears the rumble of motorcycle engines.

"Hey Jenny, come here a second," Connor plucked the kite string from Jenny's hand, and brought the kite in.

And while Connor brought the kite in, he counted the footsteps, and outwardly ignored the approaching wall of muscle.

"Hey!" Connor stiffened, and his lip curled into a snarl when he saw Jenny turn towards the men.

They were three hundred pounds of muscle if they were an ounce, and wore leather cuts and knives on their hips.

"That thing isn't welcome here."

"This is a public parks, boys," Connor said. He didn't step in front of Jenny, but in his mind's eye putting Jenny behind him is a foregone conclusion, "so, get lost."

"You don't talk to the Knights of Thunder like that, boy."

"Just did," Connor observed.

"This park is for humans only."

"Don't see a sign," Connor glanced at Jenny, and saw how her head was cast towards the ground.

Inside, Connor burned. Jenny wasn't Lorne, able to just ignore the odd glances and curious looks that people cast her way. She was less self conscious about her lime green skin and horns and more about how she stood out in a crowd, and this didn't help anything.

"There's a sign now," said the man in the middle, "right here."

"You think the three of you walking up together impresses me?" Connor said, "yeah, I hear about you and your motor club when LA went to hell. What you did to the women you 'rescued'. You're not the Sons of Anarchy, you're just idiots with bikes. And you push around people weaker than you, usually demons."

"Got a big mouth for such a small kid."

"And you're such a brave man pushing around a little girl," said Connor. Connor pointed to the man on the right.

"You drown in your own blood after your ribs puncture your lungs."

Connor pointed to the man on the left.

"You, I crush your throat and break your knees, so you die in choking agony. Two minutes, tops."

Connor nodded to the man in the middle.

"You, you get to live. But I'll put out your eyes, and maybe take an ear as a trophy."

The three men, no strangers to violence, glanced at one another.

"Well? You guys remember me from Hell A, right? You ever wonder how I was able to save everyone that came to me?"

Connor smiled.

"Because I knew how to take on, and take down anyone or anything."

Connor could feel the release of adrenaline in his veins. These men were animals, and once they threw the first punch, he'd put them down like such.

"Connor, lets just go," Jenny said.

Connor looked at Jenny, and studied her face carefully.

"Alright," Connor sighed, releasing the energy coiled in his body, "congrats boys, this brave little girl saved your butts."

Connor smiled at Jenny and she smiled back, because she wasn't afraid. She'd already seen so much violence, so much hate, that she simply couldn't the idea of causing more for her family. It wasn't that Jenny didn't think she was worth defending, it was that she didn't think anyone deserved to be hurt, if it could be avoided.

Faith would have broken them in half, same with Spike and Gunn. Of her family, Jenny can think of only two people who won't fight for her when she needs them not to, and she loves that her brother is one of them.

_Connor was the best big brother because he understands how small things can snowball into something worse for no reason at all._

Like when Jenny was experimenting with a tonfa. She had an idea about a spring launched metal spike in the center for a quick distance attack, with the hollow core adding to striking power.

And she almost had it, the wood was hollowed out, the spring inserted and the spike prepped. Pressing it down was a little difficult for the little girl of eight years old, so she had the weapon gripped by a vice, and was pushing the spike into the barrel with a thin pole when it happened.

The sharp, metal spike refused to click, and Jenny was about to ease it out of the barrel when the armory doors swung open.

Angel, Faith and Spike strolled through, back from their latest case.

"I'm just saying, I was the bloody hero there. Why did Angel did the kiss?"

"She was a sixteen year old meth addict," Angel replied, "are you seriously jealous?"

Startled, Jenny's grip on the metal cylinder slipped, the string extended and the metal spike she'd been experimenting with flew over her head, across the armory…and sank with irony into a vampire's posterior.

"Bloody 'ell…!"

Jenny was mortified, not only because she'd hurt Spike, not just because she wasn't supposed to be working on weapons unsupervised (she had told Gunn she was going to bed), but because she realized just how stupid she had been.

A metal spike can be rather illuminating in that regard.

But Spike, Angel and Faith, in between fits of honest laughter, assure her that its fine, no major harm was done.

Faith complimented her aim, Spike just shrugged it off with an honest laugh (and slipped her a piece of candy when Angel isn't looking to show he's fine), but Angel, when he's done laughing, knows that she has to be punished.

"No video games for five days," Angel said. He shoots Spike and Faith a quick glance, that makes it obvious he'll brook no dissent in this, "you know you're not supposed to be in here without one of us supervising. We both know you're smarter than that. You need to act like it."

"I know," Jenny said meekly. Angel's words cut her like a knife, but Jenny couldn't understand why just then.

"You need to be careful, for your sake as much as anyone else's. Now go to your room."

Faith and Spike both give her a playful pat on the head, but neither have the time to discuss anything. They're working on a case still, and they figure this will keep. Angel doesn't even bother to take her video games, in part because of the time but also because he trusts her that much.

Jenny doesn't allow them to see the tears creeping down her face, because the last thing she wants to do is worry them about why she's crying when she doesn't really know why herself.

It isn't the video games. Jenny likes to play them sure, mostly with Spike or Gunn, but between her books, her tutors and tinkering, she knew she could lose them entirely and never notice.

And it isn't because she hurt Spike. Jenny loved Spike, and she never wanted to hurt him, but she was aware that, in all, a metal spike hardly had the ability to do any real damage. Wood was a vampire's weakness, not metal. She was certain that he had already healed.

Jenny slowly came to realize that what made Angel's punishment so upsetting, was the fact that it was _fair_.

If anything, it was lenient. She might have hit Faith, or Gunn or even herself with that spike instead, and the thought made her sick with guilt. How could she be that dumb?

Her punishment was fair, but it just reminded Jenny of all the times the unfair things that had come before.

Like when she was whipped for misplacing a shovel (it was broken by someone else), how she always ended up with the least amount of food and how everyone, Overseer and cow alike, looked at her like she deserved nothing but contempt.

Jenny shuddered when she imagined what might have happened to her if she'd hurt an Overseer like she had Spike. She knew that she would be lucky if they only killed her.

She could still remember the crack of the whip, the feel of torn flesh, how she sang for them and they still rejected her, and the constant ache that she just accepted, day in and day out before her family rescued her.

Faith, Spike, Angel and everyone else, they love her. Jenny knew that like she knew the sun would rise. In one week they did more for her than anyone who wasn't her mother ever did for her in an entire year, and half the time they don't even realize it.

Angel asks nothing of the roof he keeps over her head. Faith never gripes when Jenny tears a shirt or breaks a hammer. Gunn makes her lunch without being reminded, and she's never hungry for longer than it takes to just _ask_ for food.

And when she's in danger for whatever reason, none of them hesitate to come for her, and never once ask anything in return.

Food, shelter, protection. Small things to them, but to Jenny, they're something she never thought she could take for granted.

The utter injustice, the unfairness of it all, then compared to her situation now, is like a vice on her heart. And Jenny is scared that if anyone found her crying now, she could never really explain it.

"Jen?"

Jenny didn't turn to face Connor, as he entered the room. She'd forgotten that, as a rule, there was always someone at the Hyperion watching over her. The 'Jenny Protocol' was the nickname, and they took it seriously.

And today, Jenny realized it was just another example of just how _effortlessly_ they _cared_.

"You okay?"

"Yes," Jenny said softly.

"Alright," Connor said nothing, but he sat down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "it's okay for the past to hurt."

Connor didn't say anything else, he just stayed there until the tears had passed, and then went to the movies as planned. He never dug further, but Jenny didn't need him to. Him just being there was enough, and they both knew it.

_Jenny thought Connor was the perfect brother, but he didn't quite agree. _

Connor loved that fact that Jenny was Fred's daughter. With his memories restored, Connor remembered how he misled her and Gunn, those painful months as they sought to find the man he had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The couple was wracked with worry, but Fred never allowed that to stop her from caring about Connor, all the while he was stabbing her in the back in so much she metaphorically resembled a pin cushion.

Frankly, Connor thought he got off easy with Fred and her taser.

Fred was gone by the time he remembered, but Connor liked to think that he was making it up to her by being the best big brother to Jenny that he could be. It wasn't much, but it was something.

And it wasn't that Connor didn't love Jenny as much as she loved him. She was cute, bright, and could be pretty helpful with his homework, while she helped fill the hole in his heart where his fake family had once been. The deal Angel had struck with Wolfram and Hart fell apart when LA was thrown into hell, and they'd slowly forgotten him, like a waking dream.

Connor knew he could have fought to keep them, but he also knew he didn't have the right. Not after they gave him the balance, the perspective on life that he so desperately needed. It might have been fake, but the lessons weren't. So he took the lessons they taught him, and the lessons his real dad gave him, and used them to be the best big brother to Jenny he could be.

But a small part of him, a part he'd never let anyone see, was a little jealous that Jenny would be able to spend what was left with her childhood with Angel as her father. It was stupid and immature, and it was barely a spark in Connor's heart on his darkest days but Connor thought it was enough to disqualify him as perfect.

And he was a little annoyed that Jenny had adopted Faith as, well…no one was quite certain how to describe Faith's parental role when it came to Jenny. She decked Spike for calling her maternal and Faith was only feminine in the most technical sense (dresses aside), but Jenny was attached to her all the same.

Which meant that no matter how hot she was, Faith was off-limits.

Because Connor had had enough pseudo-incest for one lifetime.


	7. Gunn

Gunn

It was best described as thinking through wax.

After what was supposed to be the final battle, Charles Gunn felt as if he's fallen asleep. Every now and then, some interesting noise made its way through. But the only thing that remotely registers to Gunn as anything but background noise is two voices.

"…wrong, somehow. I could fix this entire ward, but…"

Gunn vaguely recognized the voice. He's heard it before, sweet, honey like but with a strength that ran underneath.

"Then do it afterwards. But fix him first. He needs it, I need him and Jenny may need him most of all."

As long as he lived, Gunn didn't think he'd ever forget Angel's voice.

Shortly afterwards, he felt a warm glow, and fell into a warm blanket of darkness.

When Charles Gunn awoke, he felt a familiar presence that could only be his old boss. Angel had a way of being stealthy and obvious all at once.

"Gunn," Angel said, "how do you feel?"

"Like a million bucks," Gunn croaked. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too parched.

"Here," Angel filled a cup, and held it to his friend's lips. Gunn drank it like a man dying of thirst, "take your time, Gunn. We have some things we have to discuss."

"Yeah, yeah we do," Gunn nodded.

"Hold on," Angel reached into his coat, and flipped his cell-phone open, "Spike, this is Angel. No, no, I'm not using that stupid codename. Because it's stupid! Look, just keep Illyria busy, okay?"

"Illyria's here?" Gunn asked, baffled. When they'd last met in hell, well, it wasn't pleasant.

"She's been your bodyguard," Angel explained as he closed the phone, "more than a few demon lords were angry at me for returning LA to earth. You were seen as a soft target, so Illyria decided to discourage retaliation."

"Really?"

Angel shrugged, "I think she was just looking for a decent fight before deciding whether or not to kill you."

"Yeah, that sounds like our girl," Gun sighed, "So I guess you decided to beat her to the punch?"

"Yeah, wait…what?"

Gunn shook his head, "I remember what happened with Wes now, and he only took your boy. Me, I did a lot worse, even if he's alright now. Is he alright?

"He is, but Gunn, hold on…"

"I don't blame you, Angel."

"Wait, stop, back up. Gunn, you've got the wrong idea!"

"Really? Spike calling off my bodyguard, you, here alone? The math isn't complex."

"Gunn, what happened when we were in hell, that wasn't you," Angel said coolly, "believe me, I should know. I don't add 'with a soul' to 'vampire' just to sound cool."

"It may not have been my foot on the gas, but I was driving that car," Gunn replied, "I think I understand your guilt trip better than anyone else by now. First Fred, now this…I'm ready, Angel."

"Even if you were responsible, and you weren't, you should know it's not that easy," Angel said, "it's not about the mistakes you make in life, it's how you use them to better yourself and the world around you, Gunn. And it's a journey that never ends."

"If you're not here to kill me," Gunn squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't much relieved, not with the weight of the guilt that hung over him now, "then why are you here? Why's Spike distracting Illyria?"

"Your wounds were pretty bad," Angel explained, "I called in a favor to have you healed. I need you, Gunn. You see, when the Senior Partners pulled LA into hell, I guess they were kinda rough on the laws of physics. Broke a few other dimensions when doing it, I guess. And see, Lorne, well, you might have heard…"

"You're dissembling," Gunn interrupted, "and you know, that's like the first word Wolfram & Hart uploaded into my head. Neat word, dissembling. To conceal or disguise. If you're not here to kill me or ask for an apology for killing your boy, why are you here, man?"

Angel steadied himself.

"Fred had a daughter, in Pylea. We found her."

Angel studied Gunn carefully.

"Jenny."

But it was Angel whose face was overcome with shock.

"…how did you know her name?"

Gunn closed his eyes, "Fred never wanted you guys to know, to worry it, but she had bad days. Once I woke up once and she was huddled in the corner, just shaking and her eyes were all bloodshot. Another night, she woke up crying, asking me where some people were. Jenny's name came up, maybe twice, but honestly I didn't think anything 'bout it. I only remembered it because it sounded normal, ya know? Not like out of Lord of the Rings, or somethin'."

Angel nodded.

"I actually managed to convince her to see a counselor. Fred said she didn't last ten minutes before the guy gave her the hairy eyeball," Gunn explained.

He thought it best to spare Angel the exact details, how Fred alternated between wracking sobs, because of how the man just casually dismissed five years of suffering with a roll of his eyes, like the pain, the beatings, the fear, like she just did not matter. And when that hurt, that pain faded, it switched to a furious rage at the man for calling it all lies.

"What's she like?"

Angel sighed, and sat down, "Brilliant, clever, got an appetite like her mother, loves to tinker but…"

Angel rubbed his hands together.

"She's maybe seven years old but she's not a kid, not really. She keeps inserting herself in our work, she does everything she can to be useful, and she is, but…" Angel shook his head, "I don't think she sees any real difference between us and her old masters. She feels she has to be useful, and every time I try to get through to her otherwise, it feels like I'm either speaking in Spanish or she thinks I'm testing her."

"I'm sure you'll do better with her than we did with Connor," said Gunn.

"Honestly? I might prefer it if she were like him, even just a little."

"What, we got our memories back and you didn't, boss man?" Gunn asked, "hey, the kid may be alright now, but you do remember him sinking you in the ocean, right?"

"Hard to forget," Angel muttered, "but he was angry, spiteful. That's something. Jenny's the complete opposite. She goes out of her way to be useful, like redesigning a crossbow with retractable blades…"

"That ain't so bad."

"Gunn…"

"What? I spent my tenth birthday fashioning hiding places for stakes."

"Well, if it was just that, it might not be that bad. But when she isn't inserting herself into cases, she's going out of her way to be out of the way."

"What do you mean?"

Angel fell into the visitor's chair and rubbed his chin, "Know how I said she had her Fred's appetite? We…ah, didn't know that at first. Not until she threw up Spike's cigarette's butts."

"What?"

Angel shook his head, "She'd been eating out of the trash behind our back. When I asked her why she didn't just ask for some more to eat, she said she didn't think she had the right to."

"That's…," Gunn breathed out, "you think I can get through to her, maybe?"

"That's what I'm hoping," Angel said, "you were the closest to Fred. And I know it hurts to think about, but if anyone knows what might be going on in her head…"

"So the guy who made her an orphan is who you hope can get through to this little girl."

"That's a little crueler than I would have put it, but yeah yea that's the gist."

Gunn rubbed his forehead, "Angel, you gotta understand, Fred did not like talking about what happened. It was like pulling teeth from a grizzly bear!"

"Then if you fail, then you're just another person in this little girl's life who cares about her," Angel said, "and believe me, she doesn't have enough of that. You'll be released in a few days. Give me a call, and we'll go from there, okay?"

"Yeah," Gunn said, silently hoping that Illyria would kill him before he was released.

oooOOooo

_Later_

Gunn opened the door to his apartment, half expecting it to be covered in dust and cobwebs. Relatively speaking, it had been months since he'd been back, but in reality it had been only a few weeks. Hell, he'd already paid his rent through the next eighteen months (thanks to Wolfram and Hart).

He moved through the apartment, feeling more like a home invader than a renter. His memories as a vampire, fighting for his friends, striking down innocent people, plotting to somehow make it all right again, be the hero that he desperately thought himself to be clawed at him.

He barely felt comfortable in his own skin, let alone his own apartment. Everything felt as if they belonged to another life.

Gunn felt that especially when his eyes fell upon an old picture of him and Fred together, smiling.

Unbidden, Gunn's thoughts went back to the first time he'd heard Jenny's name.

_Gunn flipped through the old Times magazine, more to pass the time than anything else. He didn't know how long Fred would be, but in every TV show he'd watched these things lasted an hour, and it had barely been ten minutes._

_Gunn had just picked up a second, ancient magazine when he heard the door slam. _

"_Charles! Charles, you take me home, now!" Fred growled._

_The look of pain, her face flush with anger made Fred almost unrecognizable, and she stormed past him without slowing down._

"_Baby, wait!" Gunn was on his feet in seconds, but by the time he'd caught up with Fred she was already outside, "hey, what happened?"_

"_What do you think happened, Charles?" Fred all but screamed in his face, indifferent to the people who were watching them, "I told him I fell into a portal to another world and he thought I was joking! That I was a stupid liar who just needed some fantasy to get laid!"_

"_He said that?"_

"_Yes! Five years! Five! Years! Five years of suffering, of starving, of not knowing if I was even sane, he just shrugged off like it was a stupid joke!" Fred put her hands on her head, as if it were about to burst, "like B'orne didn't…, like H'yrne hadn't… like Jenny wasn't… like like I wasn't treated as some subhuman thing! Leashed like a dog!"_

"_Baby, take a breath, and calm down," Gunn crooked his head towards the eyes that had fallen on them. Fred looked around, and began to feel very self conscious._

"_Come on, lets talk this out," Gunn led Fred to a nearby bench, and the two sat down._

"…_I'm sorry," Fred wiped the tears from her face, "can we just go back to the hotel and pretend this day never, ever happened ever?"_

"_We gotta talk about this first," Gunn said, "look, it was stupid, going in cold. We can ask around, maybe talk to someone who knows about vampires and all that, okay?"_

"_Where are we going to find someone like that, Charles?"_

_Gunn hesitated, "…no idea, baby. But we can't just give up!"_

"_I can't go back," Fred said softly._

"_Baby…"_

"_No," Fred growled, "you don't understand, I can't go back. I can't stand the idea that someone is going to look at me, hearing what I've been through, and think that I'm just crazy! Because I want to believe them!"_

"_Honey, what are you talking about?"_

_Fred blinked back the tears, "I'm sorry, it's just that…sometimes I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. And a part of me just wants to fall backwards, to pretend it all never happened, to just…disconnect, just like before. And it scares me."_

"_Do you wanna live like that all your life?" Gunn asked._

"_No, but I'm not always standing there," Fred said, "every day, I feel more and more like I'm moving forward. You, Angel, Wesley, Cordelia, well, okay sometimes not Cordelia, you guys never make me feel like that. Maybe I didn't grow up fighting vampires or some watching school, but I can handle it. I'm not alone, you know."_

"_Fred, come on…"_

"_And I am getting better. I use actual paper for my equations now, not my wall." _

"_I know that, but you can't move forward without looking back."_

"_Charles, I remember the fortune cookie you took that from," Fred smiled._

"_Surprised you didn't eat the paper," Gunn chuckled._

"_Well, it was a little too stringy," Fred said, "look, lets revisit this later, okay? I wanna make someone regret an all you can eat buffet, and have crazy monkey sex with my boyfriend, okay?"_

Gunn put the picture back. He wondered if he pushed just a little harder, if Fred might have been able to confront her past, maybe find Jenny before Fred…before he…

Gunn's thought went to a dark, familiar place, about what could have been, what should have been and what actually was.

Gunn didn't hear the first knock, or the second, and so on.

"'ey, Cueball! Open the bloody door!"

Gunn's head snapped to the side, and he rolled his eyes.

"Spike," Gunn sighed, and rolled his eyes. He opened the door for the British vampire.

"You know the rules 'ere, mate," Spike said.

"You didn't lose that soul of yours, did you?"

"Do I look like some tit who misplaces something that important?" Spike asked, "and besides, unless you got yourself a kitten for me not to eat?"

"What? No!"

"Then you have to trust me. Now let me in, Charlie boy!"

"Fine, fine," Gunn sighed, "get your white vampire ass in here."

"Thanks."

Spike sucker-punched Gunn in the gut, and stepped inside.

"Spike…the hell?"

"Sorry, didn't enjoy that," Spike said, "well, much."

"I think I know what this is about," Gunn stood up, "but if you think I'm gonna let that sucker punch go, you got another thing coming, blondie."

Gunn came at Spike with all the experience of a lifetime of fighting vampires gave him.

And Spike just yawned, blocked each punch and grabbed Gunn by the collar and tossed him on his couch.

"Lucky I'm still healing, you bleach blond asshole."

Spike fell onto the couch next to Gunn, "Keep telling yourself that, Charlie boy. I killed two slayers. You're good, but not good enough."

Gunn rubbed his sore stomach, "I'm guessing this is about why haven't I seen the kid, right?"

"Something like that," Spike said.

"Ya know, I did just get my ass out of the hospital," Gunn observed.

"An' that's any excuse?" Spike said, "I've been waiting for your cue ball since you got back. Had to come inside so I didn't go up like a roman candle."

Gunn glanced outside, and was surprised to see the new sun.

"Well, shit."

"So way I see, you can either stay here with a very annoyed vampire who intends to catch up on his stories, or head over to Angel's roach motel and meet the newest addition to our odd little family."

"I wasn't avoiding it!"

"Really?"

Gunn rubbed his eyes, "What, am I supposed to the great black hope?"

Spike shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

Gunn leaned forward and sighed, "What am I supposed to do? Have you guys thought of that?"

"We have, actually," Spike said, "bloody hell, we expect it. So no pressure. Literally."

"Thank you Spike, if you ever get tired of poetry, you should try greeting cards."

"Thanks. Now move your arse," Spike flicked Gunn upside the head. Gunn tried to ignore it, like he was back in school, but Spike just did not quit. And his vampire strength made it hard to ignore.

"Stop it."

Spike didn't.

"Stop it!"

Spike ignored him.

"Jesus Spike!" Gunn leapt up off the couch, "what the hell do you want from me? How do you expect me to help this girl when I'm the one who made her a god damn orphan?"

"Well, she's technically not an orphan," Spike said, "though, she will be if we ever find her real dad."

"You know what I mean," Gunn said.

"It was Knox who put her in that bloody room and both you and I know that, mate. Not saying you acted the most honorably afterwards, but…"

"Accessory after the fact," Gunn tapped his skull, "still got the legal mumbo jumbo up here, man. Ain't no excuse for what I did."

"Very well then," Spike sighed, "I, Judge William the Bloody, hereby sentence you to a lifetime of community service. There's a sweet little girl at this dusty hotel, start there, eh?"

"…what if I can't help?" Gunn said.

"Then at least you tried, same as the rest of us," Spike said, "you what you're problem is? You're not asking the right question here, mate."

"What question is that?"

"You're asking yourself if you can help. The real question you should be asking yourself…"

"You undead bastard, don't you dare…!"

"What would Fred do?"

oooOOooo

When Gunn walked through the doors of the Hyperion, it felt strange.

He set down the buckets he'd been carrying, and looked around. The old place, didn't look so old. But it didn't feel like walking into the past, or a stranger in a strange land like he did at his apartment.

"Hey, Gunn, right?"

Gunn saw Faith strolling down the hall, axe slung over one shoulder, a gym bag of weapons in the other and an easy smile on her face.

"That's right. Faith, right? The boss man, where he at?"

"He's in the ballroom with the sprout and Kate," Faith said. She set down her weapons, looked at the buckets in his hands, the boxes that rested on top and gave Gunn an odd look.

"What's the story there?"

"Testing a theory, and hopefully having some fun. So, you hanging around for a while?"

Faith threw her head back and sighed dramatically, "Why does everyone keep asking me that? A roof and getting paid to beat up things, who'd turn that down?"

"No offense meant, girl, but after Hell A, well, I just wanna know where we're all going from here, is all."

"Well, I'm in for the long haul," Faith said, "guess you wanna see Jenny, right?"

"Right," Gunn said.

"Coo'. We could always use more help," Faith picked up the weapons, "but Gunn, just a heads up…?"

"Lemmie guess, if I hurt the girl, bad things?" said Gunn, "Faith, I loved Fred, and I'm not about to tear into her daughter 'cause of her daddy."

"Good to know," Faith said, "I'm sorry about your friend, I am dude, but I didn't know her. All I really remember about Fred was that she tried to brain bang Willow, and that was awesomely awkward afterwards. But I know Jenny.

She's a sweet kid. Deserves better than she's gotten. So if you hurt her intentionally, I really dunno what I'll do. I just know it will be bloody, long and freakin' epic. Feel me?"

Gunn nodded, "I feel ya. No worries."

"Good. Now go see her," Faith said, "I got me something undead to kill. Maybe."

Gunn made a pit stop by the old, defunct laundry room, and then went to the ballroom.

The room looked more like it belonged on the set of Law & Order than any detective series. There were five corkboards, one with a map of LA with a half dozen colored pins, another had pictures of vampires in various states of transformation, the third had what seemed like random newspaper clippings, the fourth was another map of LA, but this time it was covered in stickys that had business names written on them, and the last one had a confusing series of math equations on it.

Gunn saw Angel and Kate Lockley studying the board, with a little girl standing between them.

"Gunn!" Angel's relief was almost palpable, "glad you could make it!"

"Couldn't keep me away, boss man," Gunn said. He crooked his head to look at Jenny, "who's the little lady?"

"Jenny, this is my friend Gunn," Angel put a hand on Jenny's back and gently nudged her forward.

"Hello," Jenny gave Gunn a quick smile before casting her eyes down. She had a death grip on a juice box, and shy didn't begin to describe the girl.

"Great to meet you, kiddo," Gunn said. He didn't have to look hard to see that Jenny was indeed Fred's daughter. If her appearance wasn't enough, that brief, flashing smile was probably a Burkle trademark. Fred smiled, but you had to know the girl to know what they meant. This quick, hesitant smile meant that she was still evaluating you, studying the situation and hoping that you were nice.

"So what you all got going on here?"

"Oh!" Jenny's head snapped up, and went to the first corkboard, "I've been documenting vampire attacks. I have a theory that neophyte vampires refuse to travel beyond a certain distance from their lair. And I've found that when you take into account low income housing and empty lots, you could find a nest of vampires with fifty percent less effort."

"Sounds cool," said Gunn.

"Oh, oh!" Jenny went to another section of the map, and pointed to where there were no pins, "see that? There are no known vampire attacks there. Why is that? Because nothing can be something! That an industrial shipping area. I think that's how foreign vampires are smuggled in. Faith is going to check it out for me."

"She's like a calculator for supernatural crime," Kate said, "the FBI needs whole teams to read through hundreds of case files to do what she's done in the last week."

"I'm just helping," Jenny said meekly.

"Sometimes I think it's just us helping you," Angel smiled at Jenny, "we struggle to keep up, to be honest."

"I can see. Got all this done in a week, huh? You a real slav…"

Gunn stopped himself, and saw the looks Angel and Kate were giving him.

"…cker hater, slacker hater, huh?"

Jenny gave Gunn a curious look.

_Smooth,_ Gunn thought to himself. "Say, how about we do something else for a bit? What do you say?"

Jenny looked at Gunn with uncertainty, then to Angel.

"I… really shouldn't. Angel, he needs this cow to…"

"Jenny," Angel interrupted. His voice was soft but firm, "we don't use that word here. And it's fine if we do something else for a while."

Gunn smirked. Angel had the perfect 'Dad' voice.

"Good, we need us ref."

oooOOooo

"So this is why you smell like a bar even though you haven't had a drop to drink."

Angel looked at the two buckets filled with beer bottles, two more empty buckets at the far end of the room, and then to Gunn. Gunn gave Angel his patented 'trust me' look, so Angel just shrugged. Hopefully, whatever he had in mind would be successful in getting Jenny to open up, even if Angel had no real idea what Gunn was thinking.

They were in one of the hotel's old laundry rooms that had been in the middle of being remodeled when the place was shut down. There were no washing machines or dryers', though the pipes were there. Mostly, it was just a dull, grey room with white floors and a drain. The only reason Angel never turned it into a storage space because it was too far out of the way and frankly, a little depressing.

Jenny looked at the buckets, but had her hands crossed behind her back, careful not to touch the contents.

"Well, I did have to rummage through some recycling bins for this game," said Gunn, "by the way and obviously, I'll do the clean up. But first, I got a present for our girl here."

Jenny's eyes lit up, and Gunn recognized another Burkle smile. But when he gave her the box, it flipped to confusion.

"What's this?" Jenny asked in a practiced neutral tone.

"Called a Transformer," Gunn slid the toy out of the box, "this bad ass is named Optimus Prime. He goes from robot…" Jenny watched Gunn manipulate the toy into becoming something else, "…to a truck."

Jenny took the toy from Gunn's hand, and began examining it with laser-like intensity. She took the toy from robot to truck and back, studied the joints, observed the angles of the plastic mold, all while reconstructing it in her mind's eye, and thinking of ways to improve it, where there was too much plastic or not enough.

Jenny did that for a whole five minutes before Angel cleared his throat, and Jenny's attention snapped back to them.

"This is mine?" Jenny asked carefully.

"'Course, unless you don't want it," Gunn said.

"I didn't say that."

"All yours then," Gunn said, "I got you something else, but you gotta play me for it."

"Play?" Jenny looked at Gunn, then to Angel. It wasn't that the little girl was unfamiliar with the concept, far from it. Even as a slave they managed to create a few games here and there, during the slow season, and during a few stolen moments during the harvest.

However, she was unfamiliar with it being spoken out loud. Overseers only tolerated it when they didn't see it, or there wasn't something else to be done. And like an obscenity, it was never spoken of aloud, especially in the presence of an authority figure. It just wasn't done.

But Jenny observed Angel's lack of response, his complete indifference and decided to go with it.

"Sure," Gunn picked up a beer bottle and tossed it across the room, where it landed in the bucket with a crash.

Jenny covered her mouth, shocked at what she'd just seen.

"See, like that," Gunn explained.

"But Gunn, that's _glass_," Jenny whispered anxiously.

"Yup," Gunn picked up another bottle, and tossed it towards the bucket. This time he was off by a foot, and it smashed against the cement floor.

"But…" Jenny looked at the beer bottles again, and then to Angel.

"It's fine," Angel said, while making a mental note not to allow Jenny within five feet of what would doubtlessly be a pile of broken shards within the next few minutes.

"Just don't go using Angel's regular stuff for this," Gunn said. He offered Jenny a bottle, and the young girl took it carefully.

Jenny looked at the glass. On Pylea, glass was a sign of status, of wealth. It was art with function or family heirlooms that had endured for generations, created by master artisans that trained for years to master the form. Jenny had seen a dozen slaves traded for one single window pane, and remembered what happened to H'orke, how he suffered when he smashed a bottle. And he was the Overseer's _son_.

Jenny didn't even try to make the picket. She pitched the beer bottle across the room where it smashed against the wall into a million pieces.

"Ha!" Jenny was so giddy with excitement, she was literally shaking.

"Come on, girl, try to get the bucket," Gunn smiled, as he tossed another one underhanded.

Jenny was barely listening. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her blood coursing with excitement. The act of destroying what was a status symbol of the rich and powerful, the same people responsible for everything wrong in her life up until now, was an intoxicating rush literally unlike anything Jenny had ever felt before.

When it was all over, Jenny was gasping for breath, and barely even aware that she'd only tossed one bottle out of two dozen into the bucket.

"Well, that's a good first game," Gunn said and then turned to Angel, "so ref, who won?"

"That's pretty obvious to me," said Angel, "Jenny won."

"I…didn't," Jenny said, "I didn't conform to the rules, I'm sorry…"

"You win because you don't have to clean up," Angel said.

"Sounds fair to me," Gunn shrugged. He picked up a plastic gold tiara he'd bought from a party supply store, and carefully handed it to Jenny.

The little girl's eyes lit up. She was smart enough to recognize the cheap plastic and fake jewels as exactly that, but it was still jewelry, it was still pretty and it was meant for _her_.

Jenny put it on carefully, as if it were a real crown and picked up her transformer.

"Thank you, Gunn," Jenny said.

"No problem, kid," Gunn patted her head playfully, "just don't go playing this game with Angel's good stuff or without permission, okay?"

"I won't. I know that destruction of property is only allowed in a certain context," Jenny said softly, "but, I meant thank you for loving my mother, for making her happy. You must have been very close."

"Yeah, we were," Gunn said with his best poker face.

"Can I go to my room?" Jenny asked.

"Of course," Angel said.

The two watched Jenny rush off with her new possessions.

"If there was any doubt in my mind, there ain't now," Gunn said, "that girl is too smart. You know that, right?"

"Ooooh yes," Angel drawled, "still, good work, Gunn. How'd you know? I'd completely forgotten that glass used to actually worth something, a few hundred years ago."

"Hey, if you thought I knew to do that because of some inside Fred info, you're wrong there, boss man," Gunn replied, "I just remember doing it as a kid. Breaking stuff and not getting in trouble? Don't have to have been a slave to enjoy that. Honestly?" Gunn shook his head, "I wonder if we even knew Fred."

"Don't," Angel growled, "none of us are perfect. You traded your soul for a truck, I tried to lose mine with Darla, Wes kidnapped my infant son, and Cordelia didn't warn us what would happen to Fred, choosing instead to send us about the Circle. We all have our reasons for our secrets, but that doesn't change who we are fundamentally. We knew Fred, even if we didn't."

"Yeah, yeah you're right," Gunn shrugged, "The tiara was a Fred thing, though."

"Well, whatever, I'll take it. I think we've made more progress today than the last few weeks that she's been with us."

A pause.

"But that doesn't mean you're going to help me clean up, are you?"

"Are you kidding?" Angel produced a broom and dustpan, and Gunn realized he hadn't even noticed that Angel must have done his disappearance thing during the game to retrieve them, "I'm just the ref. You lost, fair and square."

"'Course, make the black man do the manual labor," Gunn groused, as he went to work.

"Sorry, that doesn't work on me," Angel said, "I ate too many slave owners to feel guilty about slavery. They tasted as rich as you might expect."

"Heh, yeah you're a vampire Dr. King," Gunn dumped a load of glass into the bucket, "I know you don't wanna hear this, Angel, but keeping a kid here? That causes all kinds of issues. You want me to cite all the laws we're breaking just keeping her by alphabetical order, state or Federal?"

"I know," Angel rubbed the back of his neck.

"And, ya know, Illyria. She says she doesn't have Fred's memories anymore, but she straight up told me Fred was the only reason she didn't kill me. And what happens when Jenny sees her?"

"I know, Gunn," Angel said under his breath.

"And when she gets older, she'll need a social security number if she wants a job besides killing creepy crawlies."

"I know!" Angel shouted, "and there are a million other things that have to be sorted, Gunn. Believe me, I know. Do you really think I haven't brooded about all this?"

"Fair enough."

"Just sweep. We made a lot of progress today, and you're harshing my buzz."

"Harshing your buzz? You get that from Faith?"

"Yeah."

"Well, give it back."

oooOOooo

_Later _

When Angel went to check in on Jenny, he couldn't help but smile as he found her sprawled out on the floor, Optimus Prime clenched in one hand, a dozen odd stretches relating to said toy scattered across the floor, along with two small empty jars of peanut butter.

Angel gently pried the toy from her hand, removed the tiara from her head, and scooped her up. Jenny barely stirred as he put her to bed. He pulled the covers over her, and gently tucked her in. He picked up the peanut butter jars, turned off the lights and closed the door.

Angel stood there, drinking in the moment, savoring the illusion that everything was normal and he was just a regular adoptive father who'd put his little girl to bed.

Angel knew it was just an illusion. He had enemies, enemies that would come at him through her. Jenny was half demon in a world of humans, and unlike most she couldn't hide it. And the only right he had to even be her adoptive father, beyond how he loved her mother, was the fact was the fact that he was strong enough to protect her from the people who wanted to hurt her because of him.

The irony was not lost on Angel.

But today, after hearing her heart pounding in excitement, seeing the pure joy on her face, today it was an illusion he was willing to buy.


	8. Illyria

Hereditary

Jenny Burkle was not Fred reborn, her family quickly accepted that but she did have some traits in common with her mother all the same. Her intelligence, her compassion, her strength of character, and ability to consume her own body weight in food inside of a day without truly gaining an ounce of weight.

And, finally, when her family was hurt, her _rage_.

And her family saw this for the first time, truly saw it, was when Jenny finally met Illyria.

It started, as most things do, as a quiet night. Faith and Jenny were in the refurbished first floor room that had been remodeled and conjoined, Faith watching a movie while nursing a sprained ankle (and it wasn't sprained because she was trying to look cool, no matter what Spike said), Jenny sprawled out on the floor in front of her, doing the homework that had been assigned by her tutors and Angel was upstairs trying to identify a new species of demon he'd come into conflict with two nights before, and everyone else was on patrol or working a case.

"I need a drink," Faith muttered, "hey, sprout, want something?"

Jenny didn't react, per usual. Angel had hired a series of private tutors for her, but each one seemed to quit after a few days, because by then it was Jenny was more qualified to teach them then the other way around. Physics, biology, geology, and even mechanics just for spice, there wasn't a single science that Jenny hadn't mastered once she understood the fundamentals.

The only exception, of course, was history. There was no science to it, and, ironically, that's why Jenny loved it.

"Hey," Faith tapped Jenny with her foot to get her attention, "want anything?"

"Coke," Jenny didn't look up from her books.

"Yeah, not after that braces crap. Orange juice it is."

Jenny didn't care. She was too absorbed in her book, learning slash discovering about the Ancient Rome Empire with the rise of Christianity (mainly because she was working on a unified faith theory concerning the power of the Cross against vampires but she was hard pressed to identify when vampires and the Church came into formal conflict). Jenny loved the sheer enormity of history. To her, it was a mountain she could climb forever.

Jenny heard someone enter, but ignored it. With all the magical safeguards that were cast on the hotel itself, Jenny knew whoever it was meant no harm (hopefully). Likely Spike, or Gunn or Kate, or…

"Genny…?"

Faith dropped the beer in her hand, and Angel leapt from his chair when they felt the scream. It was ear-piercing, rattled every glass in the hotel and communicated terror right down to their bones.

Vampire and Slayer were there in seconds, and what they saw was like a punch to the gut.

"Get away, you're not her, get away you're not her!"

"Genny, please, it's mommy!"

Winifred Burkle knelt down until she was at eye level with her daughter, arms outstretched with tears of joy streaking down her face, while Jenny had her back pressed against the weapons cabinet so hard the glass had begun to crack.

Except Angel and Faith knew it wasn't Fred. Fred was gone, dead. A memory now, and nothing more.

But Illyria, the creature that had ended her, was all too real.

It was sheer luck they'd made it this far, Angel would later reflect. He and his team had used every trick in the book to keep tabs on the Demi-Goddess, to keep her and Jenny apart. They had some close calls, but if there was one advantage to owning a hotel, it was the ability to scuffle little green girls around without anyone being the wiser.

For over three months, it had worked. It worked brilliantly. Lorne, Spike, Gunn and even Kate, bent over backwards to keep Illyria distracted, or at the very least away from the Hyperion and thus, from Jenny.

Three months, over ninety days and hundreds of hours and Angel still had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation that was now unfolding right in front of him.

"Genny, please," 'Fred' begged. She saw how terrified her 'daughter' was, and was hesitant to approach no matter how her heart ached, "it's Mommy, don't be afraid, I missed you so much. I'm sorry I got so lost, but I'm here now!"

Jenny was pressed against the weapons cabinet, struggling to understand what was happening. Everyone had told her that her mother was dead, yet here she was, real as day. Jenny had met enough vampires, seen enough illusions and read enough about shape-shifters to disregard them all as possibilities.

None of them could perfectly duplicate her mother's skin tone, her body language, the lines in her skin when she smiled, the way her hair parted and a million other small clues that gave Jenny a terrifying sense of familiarity just looking at her.

"Illyria!"

Angel grabbed the demi-Goddess by the shoulders, and pulled her away from Jenny, while Faith leapt in front of the terrified girl, fists clenched. Faith knew it was stupid, but some part of her thought that if she could just keep Jenny from seeing Illyria more, it would somehow make all this hurt just a little less.

"Angel! Oh my god you found her! You found my Genny!"

"Shut up!" Angel couldn't help but snarl. Every second this dragged on, he knew the pain it caused Jenny would only multiply, "you are not Winifred Burkle! You are Illyria!"

The horror that gripped Jenny Burkle didn't fade when she watched the form of her mother become something else entirely.

"Illyria?" Angel gave the Old One a piercing look.

"I am," Illyria looked at Angel, then to the still terrified Jenny, "…myself again."

"Well, be yourself elsewhere, God damn it!" Faith snarled, still standing between Jenny and Illyria, "Angel, get that smurf the hell out of here now, before…"

"She took the dirt…" Jenny's voice was soft, but still somehow carried over everything, "she took the dirt from my mother!"

"Before that," Faith muttered, "oh shit on a stick."

Willow said it was called it hyper-vigilance, Angel called in intuition, Faith called it being uber-smart. Whatever it was, Jenny had an amazing eye for detail and body language at times. She could, at times, pick Slayers, vampires and even disguised demons out of a crowd with just a few keen observations about body language.

It was hardly a superpower and wasn't something Jenny did all the time, but when she had bursts of insight, there was simply no keeping the truth from her.

The little green girl trembled as she reached into the weapons cabinet, and grabbed a mace.

"Give it back!" Jenny screamed.

"Whoa, hold up there, sprout!" Faith held her hands out, pleading with Jenny to stop, but the young girl could barely see past her own tears and burning rage, "put that down now!"

Jenny swung the mace at Faith, confident that she would duck out of the way like she'd done in countless battles and sparring lessons. Jenny never expected to actually connect, she just needed the Slayer out of the way so she could do what had to be done.

But connect she did. It was a glancing blow, but the mace still struck Faith upside the head and she went sprawling to the ground, and Jenny just stopped.

"Faith!" Angel was at her side in seconds, his stomach in a knot.

Jenny froze. The path to Illyria was now wide open, but Faith was laying on the floor bleeding.

Because of her.

To say she was conflicted would be like describing lava as hot. Hate and guilt struggled against one another, like a tornado in her brain. But all that wasn't enough to keep the wheels in her head from turning, and it only took another moment to recognize the familiarity between Angel, Faith and Illyria.

"You knew," Jenny dropped the mace, looked at Angel and then to Faith, blood pouring from her scalp, "you knew everything and you never told me!"

"Jenny, just take a breath," Angel knew there wasn't much chance of that, "and let us explain."

"You liar," Jenny's voice was soft, and that's what scared Angel the most. He's come to recognize 'liar' as the most damning word in Jenny's vocabulary, "you lied and I hate you all!"

Jenny looked at Illyria, and saw that the demi-goddess was standing between her and the direction of her room. Jenny gave her a wide berth, as if Illyria were radioactive, all the while trying to understand the piercing look Illyria was giving her

Once she made it past, Jenny raced to her room and slammed the door.

Angel fought the urge to run after her, but he couldn't, not with Faith still bleeding from a head wound and Illyria standing around like a deer caught in headlights. Hell, a small part of him just didn't want to deal with what was to come next.

"Damn it," Angel growled, "Faith! Faith, you okay?"

"…'m five by five," Faith muttered. She was on her back, hand pressed to her head.

"Try not to move, okay?"

"Screw that," Faith drawled, "get me a bandage. We're late to an ass-kicking, Angel."

Angel went to where they had a first-aid kit stashed and removed some gauze, "Faith, I don't want to excuse her actions, but we knew something like this was going to happen eventually. We need to tread carefully, and…"

"Wait, you thought I meant we were gonna kick ass?" Faith pressed the bandage to her head, "yeah, dream on. What about blue? She gonna keep?"

"Illyria?" Angel glanced at the Old One, and saw her examining the books Jenny had left on the ground.

"I…will endure," Illyria handled the journals delicately, as if they were made of tissue, "see to the young hybrid. Please."

Angel and Faith exchanged a glance. Faith didn't know Illyria as well as Angel, but they both knew that she was someone who made strong, bold statements. The closest she'd come to humility as far as Faith knew was offering to disembowel Haxil Beast quickly (she hadn't).

And hybrid? Since when did Illyria use scientific terms?

Angel brushed the thought aside, and looked at Faith, "Ready for this?"

"Hell naw," Faith forced herself to her feet, "but lets do this anyways."

The two marched to Jenny's room in silence. Neither of them could think of anything to say to one another that might make this entire situation any better. They'd saved the world a half dozen times between them, but Slayer and Vampire found that none of that prepared them for what they had to do now.

"Jenny? Could you please open up?" Angel rapped on the door, and wasn't too surprised when he saw it cause a spark.

Ever since taking Jenny in, Angel had done everything he could to make the Hyperion as safe as (in)humanly possible for her. Every floor had its own safe room, with reinforced steel in the walls, floor and ceiling, crossbows, wooden stakes, blood bound spells and supplies to survive two and a half Apocalypses.

And the strongest, the best of all those was, of course, Jenny's room. She knew how to activate the spells, lock the door and basically do everything she would ever need to block out the rest of the world for weeks in the event of an attack.

Which was good in most circumstances, but a small issue here.

"Never!" Jenny shouted.

"She sounds mad," Faith winced.

"Just a little," Angel removed a small pocket knife, and cut the tip of his finger. He smeared his blood on the knob, and uttered a sentence in tenth century Sumerian. He felt a bit of static shoot through his arm, confirming that he was still in possession of his soul (Willow's idea, and no one objected) and then the spells protecting the door deactivated, and the lock opened itself.

"Jenny, we're coming in," Angel said. He pushed the door, but was only able to open it an inch before it came to a full stop. Angel shook the door, and then threw his shoulder against the door, to no effect.

"Are we?"

"She's wedged the door," Angel said.

"Go away! She took the dirt and you don't even care!"

"She by the door?" Faith asked.

Angel shook his head.

Faith pushed Angel aside, and kicked the door open, turning the stake that had been used as a wedge into so many splinters.

Jenny was at the foot of her bed, hands on her knees, and tears streaming down her eyes. She took deep, steady breaths, much like a bull getting ready to charge, and her anger was almost palpable.

"We need…we need to explain," said Angel. He opened his mouth to do exactly that, but nothing came. Together, the lies and truth felt like bile in his mouth. He had no idea how he might explain it all to an adult, let alone a child.

"There's nothing to explain," Jenny said, "you lied and you let that…that thing take the dirt from my mother!"

"Take the dirt?" Faith gave Jenny a curious look, "kid, what the heck are you talkin' about?"

"They beat us, they whip us, they burn us, but we have the dirt, in the dirt we have peace," Jenny stared straight at the floor, and Angel and Faith felt a chill down their spine, "they eat us, they kill us, but we have the dirt! We work until we bleed, until we fall, until we break but we have the dirt at the end!"

Angel took a step back. Jenny's voice had a distant, haunted quality to it. She wasn't talking to them from earth, not in spirit.

"Sprout, what are you…"

Jenny's head snapped up to look them in the face.

"That thing! Is in my mother's corpse! You stupid morons!" Jenny's voice carried throughout the hotel.

Angel said nothing. What could he say? The look of pain, of confusion, of sheer hurt that Jenny gave him cut like a knife, made all the worse by the fact that it was the truth.

Faith said nothing because up until now, she'd never seen Jenny like this. To Faith, she defined a sweet kid, rarely even raising her voice. It was as if Jenny's personality had done a 360, and it was made all the harder, in Faith's opinion, by the fact that she had a right to be pissed.

"Jenny, it's…complicated…" Angel said weakly.

"You would never let it happen to an enemy," Jenny spat. She stood up and stalked towards Angel with righteous anger. Both Faith and Angel took an involuntary step back, "let their body become a play thing! A puppet…!"

"Jenny, I wish it were that simple," Angel forced all thoughts of Gavin Parks from his mind, "but it's not…"

"Liar!" Jenny lunged at Angel and began pounding away on the vampire, "you lying liar! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Jenny's small fists didn't hurt Angel nearly as much as her words. Countless stab wounds, the fires of hell itself, the acidic burn of holy water, Angel learned that the pain of all that, none of it could begin to compare to the anger, words and tears that Jenny was directing at him now.

But he simply took it, and held her close, until she was spent.

Exhausted, Jenny clutched Angel's shirt just to stand, and sobbed into his chest

"You said you were her friend," Jenny said softly, "that she was family and you loved her. How could you let this happen?"

"I didn't let it happen," Angel said softly, "I swear to you Jenny, I did everything in my power to save your mother, to save Fred. But it wasn't enough, and what happened…happened."

Angel knew how weak his explanation sounded, but it was long since agreed by everyone that absolutely no one was to give any details whatsoever, to even allude to how Fred actually died, how she was hollowed out for Illyria's takeover of her body. Jenny was too smart for her own good, and sometimes all it took was a single piece for her to assemble the entire puzzle.

But all it left them was vague reassurances about the thing that was in her mother's body. Damned either way, Angel was still willing to cling to the option that caused Jenny just a little less pain.

"You should have destroyed that thing," Jenny growled. She stepped back and looked Angel in the eye, "if you ever loved her, you would have given my mother peace! Let her rest! What you've let happen is obscene!"

"I couldn't do that without destroying Illyria," Angel said with a sigh. When he was running Wolfram & Hart, Angel actually had a team of dedicated scientists devoted to trying to find a way to do just that, to move Illyria into another form, to at least give Fred's body a proper burial, but even that was beyond their abilities.

There simply was no way to remove Illyria from Fred's body without destroying it, Illyria, or both. When the team learned that, it tore at them almost as much as Fred's death.

"Then you should have done it!" Jenny screamed, "you said you loved her and you're lying! How can you live with yourself?!"

"Jenny, no one can be blamed for how they came into this world, but they still have a right to be here all the same."

Jenny recoiled back as if she'd been slapped and the turmoil in her head and heart came to a crashing halt. Then, very softly, she said "That's… not fair. I…I'm not…I didn't…"

"I never meant to hurt her," Jenny said softly. The tears that began to roll down her cheeks came from another hole in her heart now, "I didn't…"

Angel realized the thoughts that were going through Jenny's head, and felt sick to his stomach.

"Wait, Jenny, stop, I didn't mean…!"

"Okay, enough of this," Faith grabbed Angel by his shoulder, and forcefully led him out, "Angel, I got this. Go see to Blue."

Faith closed the door before Angel could argue, and the Slayer doubted he'd have any desire to press the point.

"I'm not like her," Jenny said quietly, "I never meant to hurt her. I…"

Faith, acting on instinct, flicked Jenny's horn.

"Ow! Hey!" Jenny snapped. She put her hand over the sore horn and gave Faith a look of irritation that drowned out the self doubt, if only for a moment, "I hate that!"

"Had to snap you out of stupid," Faith sat down on the bed, and patted the spot next to her, "your momma loved you, kiddo and so do we. Now, I'm sorry we lied to you, believe you me, but we did it because we didn't want to hurt you, and because we didn't know how you'd react. And we weren't exactly wrong there, now were we?"

Jenny, for the first time, truly saw the dried blood that covered half Faith's face like war paint, the torn skin and purple flesh where the mace connected with Faith's thick skull. The guilt of what she'd quickly drowned out her rage, and Jenny stood there, overwhelmed by self loathing and doubt.

"I'm sorry," said Jenny. She took a seat by Faith, "I never meant…I just wanted…"

"I know," Faith gave Jenny's shoulder a gentle squeeze and pulled her close, "don't sweat it, I figure I had it comin' for lying to you. I'm okay, slayer healing, and all that."

"Everybody lied. Gunn, Spike, Lorne…everyone."

"Yup, guilty as charged. To spare you this. We were wrong and stupid, we both know that, but we'd do it again."

"I thought I felt her," Jenny said, as tears fell once more, "I never needed to know how she died, just that she was at peace. I thought we'd be together again…in the end, but…"

"Jenny, I'm not going to pretend I know how hard this is for ya…"

"She died," Jenny said softly, "my mother died to me when they took me to the market, because I knew I would never see her again. And I was right. And now…"

Jenny squeezed her eyes shut.

"Now I have to see her dead face every day," Jenny hissed, her throat clenching, "see something else wearing her flesh like…like a stupid shirt!"

"I'm sorry, sweet pea," Faith hugged Jenny a little tighter, and began to worry. She remembered the stories of how Wesley compensated, how he jumped head first into the bottle. She shuttered to imagine how Jenny might respond, if left alone.

"It's not fair, how could Angel let…"

"I won't give the speech, kid, and you don't want the details, but I can give you the gist. Illyria is a person, however she came to be."

"It's obscene," Jenny growled.

"Angel's technically a dead body. So's Spike."

"That's different," Jenny said weakly.

Faith gently ran her fingers through Jenny's hair, "Why? Because you know them, or because they're not your mom?"

Jenny said nothing.

"I promise kid, everyone did everything they could to save Fred, and stop Illyria from taking over. That ain't no lie. But they failed, and she's here, and she's done everything she can to make up for what she did. She never meant to kill your momma, and believe me, she regrets it. And she's doing everything she can to make it right."

"I don't care."

"Really? 'Cause just because you ain't seen it, don't mean it ain't happen. Illyria's been helping us out this whole time, kiddo. Hell, she's our biggest gun these days. I'm here today because of blue thunder."

"Don't care," Jenny said weakly.

"Angel, too. And Spike, Gunn. I mean, we've helped save her butt too, but it all comes around."

"Don't care! Why is she still alive?" Jenny said, her voice filled with hurt.

"Don't matter how many times you ask that, the answer won't change. Because she never meant for what happened to happen," said Faith, "and in the end, it doesn't matter how someone was born. All that matters to us, all we really care about, is who they are."

Faith ran her hand through Jenny's hair and gave Jenny a soft kiss on the head.

"That's one thing we never lied about."

"I…I want to go to Connor's," Jenny replied, "please, I want…please…"

Faith knew that tone. That lost, confused tone that stopped just short of saying outright 'I need to run away'. Her head and heart were a tangle of emotions, and being around the people responsible only made things worse.

And since Connor wasn't here right now, Jenny could still lie to herself about whether he was part of it too.

"I'll…give him a call," Faith began to stand up, but then felt Jenny's hand pressing down on her leg, "it's late. First thing in the morning, okay?"

oooOOooo

Angel lurked outside of Jenny's room until he was both satisfied that Faith had things in hand, and until he was absolutely certain he couldn't put dealing Illyria off another minute.

When he finally returned to the Old One, she was still studying Jenny's journals and books. And for one long, terrible moment, he shared Jenny's pain.

Illyria didn't look like Illyria. She looked like Fred with dyed blue hair. She looked like the young woman who he helped bring home after so many terrible years as a slave, who still found the strength to smile and courage to save others.

And while Angel wasn't Gunn or Wesley, he loved Fred just as deeply. He loved her like the little sister he lost. He loved her selfishly, because she always saw him as a hero, an inspiration and believed in him with all her oversized heart.

But what was in his ad-hoc 'family room' wasn't Fred, no matter what memories were still inside her head. She was Illyria, the Old One who'd saved his team time and again, who helped him in what was meant to be his final battle and helped Spike defend innocent people when LA was cast into hell. She was an ancient powerful demon God, who fought the good fight, and while she struggled with its exact nature, still did _good_.

Angel tried not to think about that, and tried not to wonder why he could save the world time and again, defy ancient evil but was denied something so simple as giving his friend's body a proper burial.

"The child," Illyria looked from the books, and to Angel, "she is the offspring of Fred."

"She is," said Angel, "I have to ask, how did you recognize her? I thought you said that you had lost all of Fred's memories. You, uhh…made a big deal about it in hell."

"I believed I had," Illyria said, "but it appears that I simply adopted Fred's ability for cognitive dissonance. I was unable to reconcile what I had done, with who I now am. A…weakness in me sought to deny it all. Seeing the offspring…"

"Jenny. Her name is Jenny."

"Seeing this Jenny…I was overwhelmed by memories. Memories I did not even know I was in possession of when I first took this form," Illyria said, "Fred's memories of her time in Pylea, they are…disconnected. Fragmented. Like a fog. And I believe this Jenny to be the cause."

"How so?"

"Spike has been assisting me in coming to understand humanity," Illyria said, "he taught me a phrase by another dead poet, Walt Whitman…"

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes," said Angel, "that was always one of Spike's favorites."

"It captures the essence of your kind's weakness," Illyria said with disgust, "Gunn, so smart and so stupid. You, wracked by guilt and doubt but lead by conviction. Fred, who could understand but could not comprehend."

Illyria paused, and cocked her head, "And what you see as your ultimate expression of love, serving as a weapon of hate."

"Did Fred…remember?" Angel asked, before he could stop himself. Illyria had full access to her memories, and would share anything asked, but they were still Fred's memories, not hers. He had no right to use her like some twisted research tool simply because he was raising her daughter.

"And what will you tell this 'Jenny'?" Illyria said, reminding Angel instantly that the creature standing across from him was empathic.

And in her own infuriating way, as was often the case, Illyria was absolutely right. It was a question that hung in the air, the elephant in the room, what did they tell Jenny when she asked why her mother never came back for her?

"What you tell me, you can never tell anyone else," Angel whispered with a voice of steel, "not Spike, not Gunn, not Lorne, not anyone. The only one who has any right to them is Jenny, if and when she asks."

Illyria crooked her head to the side, like a curious animal.

"Those memories, those emotions, they are everything that Fred was," Angel said, "they're a gift that only Fred should be allowed to give anyone."

"And yet, you demand it of me," said Illyria.

"I have to know, I need to know, to help Jenny understand when she gets older," Angel said, "but that doesn't mean I'm not disgusted at myself for asking. But for Jenny, it's a cross I have to bear. No pun intended."

"Very well," Illyria said, "Fred was brilliant, by mortal standards. But the portal that took her Pylea was her first experience with magic. Fred was confused and terrified, because she understood, perhaps better than those who use magic themselves."

"Understood what?"

"Humans, and your limited understanding," Illyria shook her head, "you limit yourself with words without even knowing it. Fred was not sent to another dimension or world. That word is too small, too limited. Pylea had its own stars, its own constellations and laws of physics. It is not a dimension, flat and partial, it was a whole other _universe_. Fred understood that. She understood that she could walk for a million miles, and still never return home. She understood that a planet that rotated around two suns would not do so at the same rate as a planet that rotated around one. And she understood that within the first ten minutes of arriving. She understood her situation, how small she was in the face of it but without knowledge of magic, did not comprehend how it had come to be."

Angel nodded silently. He thought he knew how terrified Fred must have been, went she was sent to Pylea, but it never really occurred to him that her intelligence might make it all the worse. If the expression ignorance is bliss was true, than knowledge must have been hell itself.

"She was…so lost."

Angel raised an eyebrow at Illyria. She sounded almost…sympathetic.

"Fred was unaware of the station of humans on Pylea," Illyria continued, "she was quickly educated, taken and sold at market. They swiftly recognized her as valuable. She was bought at a high price."

"Valuable?" Angel clenched his fists, and thanked whatever guided the universe that neither Gunn nor Wesley were present to hear this.

"Humans are weak, and become weaker over time when their blood mixes with that of their kin. Pylea had been disconnected from earth for many generations," Illyria explained, "one demon, a supposed breeder of livestock, recognized that this was not an issue with Fred."

"Jenny," Angel looked at the ceiling and swallowed hard. He thought the truth was something he had the strength to bear, but the fire burning in his gut said otherwise, "what…did she…what happened?"

"They bred her, and then sold her offspring after deciding she was acceptable," Illyria said flatly, "Fred did not respond well. She tried to take the Overseer's eye. She may have. That is when her memories become disjointed."

"Disjointed?"

"She convinced herself it was all a fantasy. That her time in LA was not real, that it was all an illusion in her head," Illyria explained, "but she could not forget. That was why she did not fear your demonic form."

Angel remembered that, in fragments and nightmares. His skin a sickly green, and his head covered in a crown of horns. And Fred, despite years of living with demons, showed no fear whatsoever.

"'We all have our demons," Angel put his hand in his face and sighed, "that's what she said to me afterwards. Damn it all…"

"Fred was not referring to Jenny," Illyria replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Fred thought you would reunite her with her daughter. When you did not, the demon of which she spoke was the fact that she hoped Jenny was dead."

Angel looked at Illyria in disbelief.

"You're wrong. That's now…Fred would never…That's not who she was!"

"Fred understood, on some level, the potency of blood in magic," Illyria said, "and reasoned that Jenny, with demon DNA, would be even more potent. She knew that some clans in Pylea ritually consumed their own. Jenny being dead was the kindest fate Fred could think of for the daughter that she would never see again. Her life as a slave had taught her new forms of fear."

"I can only imagine," Angel sighed.

"You cannot," Illyria said, "Fred saw humans flayed, but kept alive for days by magic. She saw a Priest literally remove the mouth of another slave. Fred was nearly bought by a Sloth demon, who's human slaves had bone protruding from their mouths. And that was simply her first week. You humans have no words for the enormity of fear that overtook Fred. Whenever Fred's mind drifted to her daughter, that fear threatened to overwhelm her. So she refused to consciously approach it."

Angel closed his eyes as memories of a dark night, a stand-off and a sickly light coming from a tear in reality flashed behind his eyes.

"I can understand better than you think."

"Again, you cannot," Illyria said, "you could fight back. You could understand. Fred could not, did not until you took her from Pylea. She was weak, until you took the weight of an entire world off her shoulders, and made her strong. Strong, but not whole."

"That's enough," Angel said. He felt sick in a way no medicine could cure. It wasn't just learning the truth of what happened to Fred, because he'd all but known it the second he laid eyes on Jenny, but in _how_ he learned it. Right now, he didn't see himself as any better than the demons who enslaved Fred and treated her like a piece of livestock. If anything, Angel saw himself as worse. To them, Fred was just an animal, a thing. But to him, Fred was a friend, a sister, _family_. And here he was, just taking something so intimate, so personal from her that he had no right to.

"You wish for me to leave. My presence disgusts you," Illyria said.

"_Yes_," thought Angel, but he said, "No. You're still my friend, and you're one of us…"

"To whom you have lied to for several months. Lorne, Gunn, all of you are guilty of great deception, with no guilt or hesitation whatsoever. I would be justified in killing at least two of you for such an affront."

"…point," said Angel, "look, Illyria, you leaving won't change the fact that you exist. And as painful as it might be for Jenny right now, she's going to have to deal with it somehow. If you can control yourself…"

Illyria crooked her head to the side, "I am a God who walked this earth before your kind even existed. What makes you think there is anything I cannot control?"

"Then did you mean to do to Jenny, what you did? Because seeing her mother again, seeing her like that? That was cruel. And I have never known you to be cruel, not like that."

"It was not my intention," Illyria said slowly.

"I cannot allow that to happen again," said Angel, "I will not allow it to happen again. Understood?"

"I understand," Illyria looked down at the books, and then to Angel, "Jenny…the child, what is she like?"

"She's brilliant," Angel said, "just like her mother. She's smart, she's kind, she's curious, she's brave… she's…come so very far from where we took her from. And she'll go farther."

Illyria nodded.

"She is in danger."

Angel raised an eyebrow, "Did you hear about a threat?"

"No," Illyria said, "but I know you. The enemies you have made, the battles you fight. Understand if you ever fail to protect her, if you allow her to be harmed, I will end you in ways you do not even have concepts for."

Angel threw his head back and laughed bitterly.

"I see nothing amusing in this, half breed."

"Illyria, if anyone ever harms Jenny, it will be because we're all already dead," Angel explained, "do you think that there is anyone on my team who doesn't value her life, the life of any child, over theirs?"

Illyria said nothing.

"I need some time to sort this all out," Angel said, "go to Spike's place, and we'll… figure something out. Maybe get you a damn cell-phone. Just…just give us some time, okay? Please, I know this is complicated, and tonight has been confusing, but I don't want to lose you, Illyria."

"That would be acceptable," Illyria said.

oooOOooo

_Later_

"Darla left me alone in a burning barn while we were being hunted by Holtz. My soul-mate sent me to hell for a hundred years, Buffy died and I wasn't there to help her, my infant child was kidnapped by my best friend and then taken by my worst enemy to a hell dimension and later, my son sent me to the bottom of the ocean for three months."

Angel threw back the shot. It burned as it slid down his throat.

"So understand that when I say that it was the worst day of my life, I have no shortage of colorful days to choose from."

"I feel ya there, bucko," Lorne poured himself a shot from the bottle. It was a special brew, worth thousands of dollars, known as 'The Perfect Poison'. The exact properties were an ancient secret, and allowed vampire, demon and human to become equally drunk without worrying about pesky things like alcohol poisoning, "I'd give my horns, bar and everything in between to avoid this, if we could have. But lets be honest, we knew this day was going to happen eventually."

"Doesn't make it any easier," Angel sighed. He motioned for Lorne to pour another shot, "and I don't know where we go from here."

Faith smacked Angel upside the back of the head.

"Where do you think we go? We move forward, simple as that," Faith popped a coke, "and hey, we don't have some huge ass lie hanging over us anymore."

"Sure you don't want some?" Lorne slid the bottle towards Faith.

"More than anything," Faith sighed, but she returned the bottle, "but I got a bad family history there, Kermit. Best to only get shit faced when I'm happy. Or bored. Or horny, or…"

"Yeah, I get it."

"Ladies, Lorne," Spike strolled in, and fell into a chair besides Angel, "let me get a drink then you can go to town on me, okay mate?"

"What? Oh, right," Angel glanced at Spike, then remembered that for the last week, keeping Illyria away from the Hyperion was his job. In all the drama, he'd completely forgotten that up until now, "if that would solve anything, I would. But honestly, I'd rather get drunk than think about how we've been lying to one of our friends and a child in our care for months on end, and would have done it forever if we could have gotten away with it."

"Can't even get a sucker punch from you, eh?" Spike shook his head, "that bad, eh?"

"What do you think?"

"Things didn't go well," Spike poured himself a shot, "understatement of the year, or century?"

"Century," Angel and Faith said together.

Spike took a good look at Faith, and did a double take.

"I'll say. You get that from our girl?"

"'Fraid so," Faith said, "she's got a mean swing."

"And you let her hit you," Angel growled softly.

Faith shrugged, "Yeah, pretty much."

"Why the hell did you go and do something like that!" Spike snapped, "you think this all isn't hard enough on Jenny as is?!"

"It was either let her hit me, or the girl with the scary genius IQ grabs a magic book and things get ugly and unpredictable," Faith replied, "I'll take the mace for a hundred, Alec."

"We could have stopped it," Angel said.

"Yeah, right," Faith said, "she's smarter than you are old and violence is a part of her life, our lives. Best we control where she screws up now so she doesn't screw up bigger later. Kinda an expert on that, Angel."

"On violence, or screwing up?"

"Yes."

"Jenny will be fine, right?" Lorne poured one for himself.

Angel said nothing.

"I mean, sure, Illyria is…she…" Lorne's voice trailed off, "…I got nothin'."

"She's in Fred's dead body," Angel said bitterly, "there's no getting around that. It's why we can't even tell her parents that she's gone."

"Not like we can throw stones there, mind," said Spike.

"But you're still you, Spike, Illyria isn't Fred, and Jenny's not you," Faith said, "I gotta admit, seeing my dead mom's body walking around would mess me up too. And I hated that bitch."

"We never even held a service," Lorne said softly, "too busy trying to save her, or dealing with her death that the actual details just slipped past us…."

"I told Illyria that Knox was worth defending, worth more as a person than her," Angel said, "I'm surprised Wes didn't shoot me too. And damn did she prove me wrong…"

"Like a bull in a China shop, though," Spike took a deep drink from the bottle, "if the bull was wearing the dead body of a friend she had no right to, the china was innocent people around her…"

"I have to say," Lorne took the bottle from Spike, "that's what I hate most about big blue sometimes, the fact that I can't hate her for what happened. Wasn't her that put Fred in that room."

"Why is this so complicated? I just want to save the world," Angel sighed as he took another shot, and rested his head against the glass like it was ice on a wound.

"It'll work out, Angel," Faith said, "kids can be pretty damn mercenary, when ya think about it. Shit, I remember what I did for three hots and a cot. Jenny'll come back to us because she needs us."

"I'd rather she do it because she wants to be with us," Angel said, "because she loves us like we love her."

Faith shrugged, "That'll follow. I hope."

oooOOooo

_Elsewhere_

"…where?"

Dean Titus opened his eyes slowly, as he slowly returned to the land of the living. Well, as a vampire, not exactly living, but of the conscious.

The last thing he remembered was stalking his latest prey, a single mother of two, when something smashed him from behind and then…here.

Here being some cave under LA. Dean could hear the rumble of commuter tracks, the hum of electricity and stench of prey, but they were a ways off. The place was lit by candles, the walls covered in strange writings, four burned spinal cords hanging from the ceiling decorated with tensile and some blue haired woman staring right at him.

"Whoa!" Dean jumped, and realized that if he hoped to make it as a vampire, he'd have to be a little more observant.

"Umm, hello?"

Illyria said nothing.

"Did you uhh, knock me out?"

Illyria said nothing.

"Okay, screw this, you…you smurf!"

Dean put his game face on, lunged for Illyria but in the mere blink of an eye found himself flying in the opposite direction against an unforgiving stone wall.

"You are not here to feed, half breed," Illyria said.

"Oh, okay…" Dean drawled slowly. He picked himself up carefully, his body feeling like a giant bruise, "then why am I here?"

"To help me," Illyria said, "you should consider this a great honor."

"Help you?" Dean smiled despite himself. People just assumed that because you were a vampire, you knew all about the seamy, mystic underworld, but in truth Dead knew only jack and a little shit. The vampire that spawned him was staked only hours after Dean awoke, and he was left to fend for himself, "help you how?"

"To understand," Illyria said.

"Umm, okay," Dean scratched the back of his head, "so why choose me? Was it because of my work? I have to admit, it's pretty clever."

"Your 'work'?" Illyria gave Dean a piercing look.

"Yeah, you heard about it, right? See, you know how some vampires will just eat a human and forget about it?"

"Yes," Illyria said without judgment.

"See, that's stupid! Because humans always have someone who cares about them! Someone that'll be all 'Oh, I must avenge this poor idiot who walked down a blind alley and expected to keep all her blood!'," Dean smirked, "see, that'll never happen to me. Because I'm smart. I see prey, I track it. I find out all it's relations, and then, bam! I take 'em all!"

"You kill entire families," Illyria surmised.

"Well, yeah, a couple," Dean said, "I mean, sure, I get a little hungry sometimes, but better safe than sorry, right? No Bruce Waynes to be found! That's why you chose me, right?"

"I chose you at random," Illyria said.

Dean watched her pick up a piece of metal rebar.

"But I still chose well."

The rebar flew like an arrow, tearing through bone and pinning Dean to the cavern wall like an insect. Illyria took a moment to savor the image.

"…what? Why?" Dean looked at the metal protruding from his shoulder, and screamed as Illyria gave him a matching set.

"I find myself…conflicted, like a disgusting human," Illyria said, "I thought this world held nothing but grief, pain. Another told me that there was love. I feel both now. And I do not know how to reconcile them in me."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for you," Dean pleaded, tears trickling down his face, "please, please don't kill me!"

Illyria stepped in close to the vampire, "I have no intention of killing you, half breed."

Illyria grabbed the collar of Dean's shirt, and tore it free.

"As I stated, I intend to honor you."

"Oh? Really?" Dean tried his best to smile, despite the fact that he had two metal poles through his shoulders, pinning him to the cavern wall.

Hope springs infernal, after all.

"Yes, a holy position just below my Qwa'ha Xahn," Illyria said, "I have ordained you as my Qwr'hertan."

"Is that like head harem boy?" Dean said hopefully, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his shoulders.

"There is no true human translation," Illyria ran her hand over Dean's chest, gently. She held a hand over Dean's ribs, and pushed. The young vampire screamed as Illyria's hand plowed into him until it reached his now useless lungs.

Illyria removed her hand, now slick with blood, and allowed Dean to regain his composure. It took him a while to stop screaming. But Illyria could afford to be patient.

"The closest is 'whipping boy'."

Dean struggled to steady himself, "…why?"

"As I find myself torn with grief and anger, I feel as if I must be punished," Illyria explained, "but I am a God king. No one, not even myself, can be allowed to damage me with impunity. You are my proxy."

"Please, you can't…"

"I can and will, half breed," Illyria picked up a jagged piece of glass, "this shell had a theory that your kind do not truly subsist on blood. Rather, you received power from another dimension and blood is simply a catalyst that allows you strength and rational thinking. This theory is supported by the fact that one of your species survived for three months without blood."

Illyria dragged the shard of glass across the vampire's chest.

"Take heart in that you are assisting a God to your kind. This will only last until I have come to fully understand these emotions. I predict it will only take a generation."

oooOOooo

Jenny returned home a week later. There wasn't much discussion, just a few gentle words, and life returned to what constituted normal. The subject of Illyria was handled like a live grenade, only approached in life or death situations (and there were no shortage of those).

Jenny controlled her temper at those times, and only even looked at Illyria when she had to. And every time Jenny saw Illyria, without fail, she had a notebook she would always write in. It was always a different one, and whenever anyone was able to steal a glance at it, all they saw were equations that they could never hope to understand.

It would be a decade and a half before Jenny employed the notebooks, and the result was at best described as tragic.


	9. Tacos

Note: This chapter will be both upsetting and disgusting. You've been warned

oooOOooo

Angel learned the hardest lesson about raising Jenny because, of all things, tacos. It was something he knew not so deep down, but was thrown in his face by a reality that would not be denied.

Despite all the weirdness that surrounded his life, their life now, Angel did everything he could to at least have a semi normal dinner once a week, sitting at a dinner table with forks and knives and all that jazz. It was for him as much as Jenny, to convince himself that he was doing right by both the little girl and her mother.

Jenny, of course, didn't complain. It was something that worried Angel at times, but not now. Food was food, right?

Angel ordered from an all night taco place, and set the table. He called Jenny down, and for a moment, he almost felt normal.

But then the little girl with lime green skin and horns on her forehead wrinkled her nose, and for the first ever when it came to food (or anything that could be mistaken for food), hesitated.

Her reluctance should have been a clue, Angel would later realize. Jenny never turned down food, and with her upbringing as a slave, he doubted she ever would. After a while, survival instincts just became hard wired.

And just like Fred, she had an appetite that defied physics.

But Angel, in his nostalgia, looked right past that, past Jenny and to Fred. Fred loved Mexican, therefore her daughter would too, right? That could be so wrong about giving them some small in common (besides the utter brilliance they shared)?

"What… is this?" asked Jenny.

"Just beef, cheese and some spices," Angel said. He handed Jenny one, "come on, try it. It's not so bad."

Jenny handled the taco like it was radioactive, and only managed a bite and a half before she threw up.

It wasn't just that she threw up until her entire stomach was empty, and from there went to dry heaves. Jenny broke out into wracking sobs and when she tried to stand her legs gave out. And when Angel rushed to her side, Jenny pulled away as if the mere sight of him was too much to bear.

And it gets worse.

It lasts for three days. Three days when Jenny can barely speak without crying. Three days where she can barely eat. Three days huddled in bed, and nothing was able to coax her to stop, to talk, except an exhausted sleep. Three days terrified that the people she loved would find out her secret.

It didn't matter that they took twenty four hour vigils outside her room. Gunn, then Spike, then Connor, then Faith, then Lorne, then Kate, then Angel and back around again.

And as bad as the others think it is, Angel knows it's worse. Jenny was a slave, and slaves don't get sick days. There is no rest even for an infection, broken bone or pulled muscle. And certainly no bereavement leave.

That Jenny was so distraught that it overpowered her basic survival instincts worried Angel for every minute of those three terrible days. He almost thought the tacos were cursed somehow (and when not on 'Jenny watch', actually went so far as to confirm they weren't).

At the end of the third day, Jenny finally allows herself a thread of hope that maybe, just maybe they'd understand.

She asks for Faith and Angel, because she sees them as her biggest supporters, the people who care about her the most.

But when she's finally sitting across from her two guardians, her eyes red from tears, Jenny does everything she can not to look at them, until Faith cupped her chin and brought her up to eye level.

"Sweetie, remember what I first told you?"

Jenny nodded.

"Then trust us. We love you, and nothing will change that."

Jenny swallowed hard, "You can't know that."

"Yes I do, kiddo. But give it a shot."

"I…"

"Jenny, whatever it is you're carrying, let us help," said Angel.

"I can't!" Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, "I tell you and you'd kill me and you'd be right!"

"Jenny, why would ever think…"

"Because you kill monsters!" Jenny screamed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're too small and cute to be a monster," Faith said in a forced, nonchalant manner.

"Whatever is wrong," Angel said, "whatever happened, please Jenny, let us help."

"That thing …" Jenny has her hands on her knees, and trembled as if she were freezing to death, "…it reminded me of…of Bach-nal."

Jenny looked at her guardians. Faith was confused, but the look of horror on Angel's face meant that he understood. She didn't know it, but as fate would have it, it was how he first met her mother.

Jenny almost stopped there, until she felt Faith's hand on her shoulder. So she continued.

It started a week after Jenny was torn away from her mother, and sold at the market.

Her new owner saw himself as a kind and benevolent master (no one else did), but at the same time, felt that to spare the whip was to spoil the cow.

So when the new slaves were brought in, they were lined up in a row next to one another. Their new master then had an older slave, a man in his fifties marched out and had his throat cut without any ceremony.

Jenny and her fellow slaves watched as he was then hung from a tree by his wrists, and an ugly large, ritual metal bowl placed underneath. Then, without another word, they are led to their barracks.

Then, for the next week, Jenny and every new slave barely received half rations, but still did the same work as everyone else. By the fourth day, she's grown accustomed to being able to see her own ribs and the dull, falling ache in her gut.

Then, on the seventh day, all the new slaves are taken from their barracks, stood in front of the still hanging and rotting corpse. They stood there for an hour, in the overpowering stench and surrounded by flies and birds picking at the carrion, before their new master came out and handed them all, including Jenny, a machete.

To her, then, their new master is a looming giant, a towering mountain of authority and power. It was only later that Jenny recognized him as a fat, short slob of a man.

She and her fellow slaves look at the blades, terrified. It was a test of their submission, a test they all feared failing with so much as the wrong twitch. And a demonstration of their master's power, that he would so boldly stand there in the midst of armed slaves.

"Please loosen the meat," he ordered.

And they obeyed. After a week with two suns bearing down on it, the muscle and tissue slid off the old man's bones effortlessly and fell like wet clay.

After the majority of the old man was in the bowl, Jenny and her fellow slaves were disarmed and sent back to the barracks.

Then, two days follow without food. And none of the other slaves offer them a crumb, or can even look them in the eye.

At the end of the second day, the guards enter with a steaming pile of meat, inside of a large, ugly ritual metal bowl and summon them forward.

"I bring you this gift," said their owner, with a greasy smile, "to foster an understanding between us. Bach-nal is an important ritual for us, and I feel it would be selfish of me if I did not allow you, the newest additions to our family, to share in it."

Jenny felt numb as she and the others were pushed to the bowl. The shock of what they were being forced to do was simply too much for the little girl who'd been torn away from her mother, torn away from the only person she ever thought would love her.

She could barely move, barely think, until the whip came down on her back, ripping flesh like it was paper. Jenny fell to her knees, and the smell of the meat washed over her. It didn't smell anything at all rotten or spoiled or dead at all. It smelled cooked, fresh, spiced.

The most disgusting and horrible thing of all, was that it smelled _good_.

Jenny only lasted three more strikes of the lash before she finally gave in.

When it was all over, when her stomach didn't ache and her back burned as it trickled blood, their master makes eye contact with each and every one of them. And Jenny sees that smug, knowing look in his face that haunts her nightmare.

Because she knows he will never let them forget this. And she knows no one will rebel now, because they could never muster the self respect, the basic dignity, to fight back, or the courage to defy him after being brought so low.

Later, when her fellow slaves are tending to their wounds, Jenny heard them say that it was all a trick, that it was just some spiced lizard. And they try to sound convinced.

But Jenny knows the truth doesn't matter. Because she remembers exactly what was going through her head when she picked up the first handful of meat and put it in her mouth.

"I was hungry," Jenny said through the sobs, "I was hungry and it hurt so bad and I didn't want to die! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please please please don't hate me!"

Both Angel and Faith do nothing to fight the tears. But, inside, they react very differently.

Angel, in a calm, understanding but firm voice, explains that it wasn't her who did anything wrong. That she did what she had to to survive and that she is still a good person, an innocent victim of a monster. That it does not change their love for her.

Faith, in an acting performance worthy of an Oscar, pretended as if she hadn't really heard a thing Jenny said. Because if she had heard it, and she didn't, she couldn't, Faith feared the seething rage she knew would overtake her would be sensed by Jenny and that simply could not be allowed to happen.

They embraced Jenny, until she knew beyond all doubt that they still loved her and that they would never, ever turn her out.

By the time she fell asleep in Faith's arms, Jenny felt as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders, while Faith and Angel felt as if it had rolled over them.

"Every day, I want to burn that dimension to the ground more," Faith rubbed her sore neck, "also, why would a taco make her freak like that?"

"It was just the smell and taste, probably," Angel sighed, "When it comes to memory, it can be a hell of a trigger. After I received my soul, I couldn't eat red meat for decades. It didn't taste like human flesh, not really, but…"

"But close enough," Faith nodded, "okay, future note, no Mexican food. Ever."

"Yeah," Angel shook his head, "look, why don't you head to bed? I'm going to go on patrol, work off some steam."

"Head to bed? What am I, twelve? Why do you get to punch someone and I don't?" Faith huffed.

"I'll let you take the next three patrols," said Angel, "please, Faith. I need this. I just need to get out tonight."

"Oh lord," Faith rubbed the bridge of her nose, "fine, but Angel? I know I can't keep you from angsting, it might as well be your superpower besides the whole vampire thing, but it was just, ya know, tacos. You couldn't have known."

Angel was silent.

"And, as hard as this was, maybe it was a good thing? Now that Jenny's got that off her chest, she might open up more."

Silence.

"Just…think about what I said when you're brutally killing something undead, okay?"

"Okay," Angel said finally.

Faith didn't need to be a mind reader to see that Angel was mostly humoring her, but she was so emotionally spent, Faith just couldn't bring herself to care. He was a grown vampire, after all. And really, Faith could not remember a time when she needed a cigarette more.

She fished one out of her pocket, but when she attempted to actually light the damn thing, Faith noticed that her hands were trembling so much that she had a better likelihood of setting her hair on fire than actually lighting her cancer stick.

That was when a hand reached out with a lighter, "Need a hand there, luv?"

Faith had a stake in hand before she even realized she recognized the bleach blond, leather clad vampire standing next to her.

"Jesus fuck, Spike!" Faith put her hand on her chest, trying to slow her pounding heart, "don't sneak up on a girl like that!"

"Sneak up? Bloody hell, I just came in the side door," Spike said, "you want I should wear a damn bell around my neck?"

"Just hold the damn lighter," Faith muttered. Once lit, Faith inhaled all the smoke her lungs could take, and damn did it feel good. To hell with the Surgeon General, whoever that stuck up prick was, this really was the best medicine.

"Better?"

"Little," Faith sucked in more, "lets take this outside. Jenny hates the smell, and Angel gets whiney too."

To his credit, Spike waited for Faith to finish her first smoke before saying a word.

"So, how's our girl?" Spike lit another one for Faith, who's hands were still shaking (but not as badly as before), before lighting one for himself.

"We got to the bottom of it," said Faith, "and holy crap was it somethin'. I'm beginning to be thankful that all my folks did was slap me around and not feed me. And just how messed up is that?"

"Anything you care to share?" Spike said softly.

"What, you running a gossip rag or something?" Faith said, more on instinct than actual malice.

"Hey, have I ever once been unreliable when it comes to that girl?" Spike snapped, "I did my duty out there, and here, without one word of complaint! I deserve some respect there, you bloody cow!"

Faith scowled, mainly because it was true. Sure, Spike went to chase Buffy's tail a couple of times, but he made damn sure to keep Faith and Angel in the loop and made it clear in no uncertain terms that if Jenny needed him, he'd come running.

In the end, Spike, who threw himself into any fight simply because it was a fight, bent over backwards to be just as reliable as Angel and Faith when it came to Jenny.

"B was right," Faith forced herself to chuckle, "you really do love playing the big brother bit, don't ya?"

"It's not playing," Spike said, "though yeah, innocent kid caught up in business they never asked to be in? Don't know how not to care, truth to tell."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Faith sucked in more nicotine.

"So, getting back to the proper subject, Jenny. How bad?"

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"Eleven, right?" Spike shook his head, "it's never one. Or two, why is that?"

"Because we pissed off God or somethin', best I can figure."

"Well, care to share?" Spike said

Faith examined her shoes. She knew the depth of Spike's love for Jenny. At first, he cared about that little girl first because she was Fred's daughter. He cared about her now simply because she was Jenny Burkle. He cared about her because he was Spike and when he cared, he threw himself into the deep-end, headfirst.

"No," Faith said with a heavy sigh. They said the truth will set you free, but Faith could almost feel the chains around her now.

"What? Come on now, I can bloody well keep a secret."

"I know, Spike," Faith said, "Ain't that I don't trust you when it comes to Jenny, but it's not my secret to tell, and Jenny didn't come to you. You feel me?"

Spike rubbed his temple, "Yeah. Hate it, but yeah. Anything I can do, at least?"

"Yeah, only thing the rest of us can do," Faith said, "love her, protect her and never ever bring Mexican food here, like, ever."

"Mexican, eh? Was her mum's favorite."

"Well, like I said, God hates us."

oooOOooo

Angel stalked towards the door, when he caught a whiff of Mexican. He remembered that the remains of the dinner had been tossed in the trash, but trash pick-up was still a day away.

Rather than risk even the possibility of upsetting Jenny again, Angel pulled the bags out, and walked a good six blocks, ignoring the odd glances that people gave him (Angel, savior of Los Angeles a trashman?), before he finally dumped it all in an open dumpster in a back alley so far away it might as well be on the moon.

He closed the lid, then smashed his fist into the rusted steel, slammed his foot and generally just used every ounce of his vampire strength to turn the dumpster into a thing of bent and twisted metal. It wasn't until his hands were broken and he doubled over from exhaustion that Angel finally stopped.

Faith was wrong, it wasn't 'just tacos'.

It was him. It was Angel pretending that Jenny wasn't Jenny, but Fred reborn. He'd hurt a young girl because he allowed himself, for just a moment, to see her as a pet, a trinket reminder of a dearly beloved friend.

And in the end, he'd wronged both Fred and Jenny. To Fred, for not protecting her daughter, and to Jenny for treating her like pet, like a reflection of her mother, like a _thing_ when she was her own person, actual and whole.

Jenny wasn't Fred. She never would be, and Angel knew he hurt her by trying to force her to be, instead of embracing her as her own complete person.

"I'm sorry," he said, to Fred and Jenny both.


	10. Faith

Faith

When Spike, Gunn or anyone who know them think about Jenny and her life, Faith is always the one who makes them think twice. Only a few understand why Jenny clings to the last 'Chosen One' was strongly as she does.

Those few that see it, however, understand the relationship perfectly.

Faith makes Jenny believe.

While most children grow up believing that their parents are a force of nature, able to handle anything life threw at them, Jenny never had that illusion. She never knew her father, never wanted to, and her mother struggled with the weight of the world on the good days, and there were oh so few of those.

When Jenny was taken from her mother, she wanted to cry out, to beg her mother to save her, but she said nothing. Jenny saw her mother reach for her, saw the other slaves tackle her and said nothing. Because even at such a tender age, Jenny knew that there was nothing her mother could do for her. And Jenny knew that all she could do was to remain silent, because otherwise she'd scream and beg and then would be just one more thing that tore her mother's heart apart.

And when her second master brings her low, Jenny slowly loses her belief in everything.

She lost the ability to believe she deserved freedom when she gave into the Bach-nal ritual.

She lost the ability to believe in family when she sang, shared the gift her mother gave her and they still looked at her like trash, still spit on her rations and tell the Overseers she's always the one making trouble.

She lost the ability to believe she's anything but property when she's sold again.

When her group was marched to the market, Jenny barely reacted to the portal that opened up beneath them. She had long since resigned herself to whatever terrible fate was in store for her. Jenny didn't want to die, but that didn't mean she cared much about living.

Arriving in Silver Lake, being found and sheltered by Lorne, none of it makes Jenny believe in the possibility of a better life. Because no matter how much Lorne smiled, no matter how much he dotes on her, all Jenny is able to see all the others just like him, like her, green and full of authority and all their smiles mean is a prelude to creative cruelty.

That never happened with Lorne, in Hell or afterwards, but survival instincts die hard.

Angel brought out a small flicker of hope when they first meet, with his compassion and understanding as he looks at her and sees everything, but Jenny forces it all from her mind when she ends up in Pylea again.

It's only when Faith reaches out to her, when Faith assures that she can be redeemed, that Jenny starts truly to believe in something better.

But that hope, was itself terrifying. Because Jenny can only see herself as a survivor. She quickly comes to understand that these people might love her, but only because they loved her mother.

And with her dead, how long would it take their affection to fade?

Jenny had cynicism down to an art form, after all.

A few days after they return to earth, Faith unknowingly endears herself to Jenny when she overhears that Faith barely knew Fred, her mother.

"Shame I never really got to meet Fred," Faith said in an offhand manner, when she thought Jenny wasn't listening.

There was more to the conversation, but that was all Jenny remembered

It was like a spark inside of Jenny's heart. Because Faith loved her for _her_.

It made Jenny believe that there would be others, it made Jenny believe that Spike, Lorne and the rest really did love her, separate of her mother. And that spark eventually became a warm fire that Jenny carried with her for the rest of her life, and she would always remember where it started.

More than just that, Faith made Jenny believe that she was would always be safe.

Angel and Spike were flammable during half of the day. Lorne wasn't a fighter, and Gunn and Kate were only human, despite their combat prowess.

But Faith? She was stronger than Angel and Spike, doesn't burn at the touch of sunlight, doesn't give a damn about crosses and doesn't need an invitation anywhere. And when Faith fights, she fights with a passion and strength had seemed unbreakable. Faith gave everything in battle, and when Jenny sees that fire being used to protect her, it gives Jenny a source of strength and confidence that holds her fears at bay.

There are times when Faith's strength is tested, but to Jenny, she never breaks. Like when she returns from Pylea, bloody but standing tall. Like when Faith rescued Jenny and her classmates from a rogue slayer and a pack of vampires.

Jenny knows there is no battle Faith won't wage for her, and it's a comfort even in times when violence can solve a damn thing.

Like when Jenny had to leave LA, and spend a year at the Watcher's Academy.

Like when Jenny meets her grand-parents for the first time.

Like when Jenny had to attend High School for four terrible and awesome years.

On occasion, people wonder why Jenny only ever calls Faith 'mom' to annoy her. It's because to her, to Jenny, Faith is so much more than that.

Because Faith's love, her protection, uplifted the little girl who'd been born a slave, treated as a thing by all but one and enabled her to just believe in something more. Faith took the weight of the world off Jenny's shoulders without batting an eye.

Because to Jenny, Faith isn't her mom. No matter how much she loves her mother, to Jenny 'mom' is a weak word. She never blames Fred for being unable to protect her, but she can't ignore it either. Unfortunately, Jenny is too smart for that. She's too smart, and too cynical, to see 'Dad' as a strong word either. Not when sunlight and holy water can do so much.

To Jenny Burkle, Faith is simply in a league all her own. To her, Faith really is faith.


	11. Social Science

Shelter

Gunn often worried that he didn't feel as guilty around Jenny as he really should.

A part of him would always hold himself responsible for Fred's death. It was a weight Gunn felt every day, one he was certain he'd carry with him to the grave and beyond. And Gunn felt a small amount of guilt that he wasn't able to help Fred deal her time in Pylea, and maybe they might have found Jenny, might have reunited mother and daughter.

But Jenny was just too sweet a child, in her own special way, and when she was engaged, so full of energy that it was hard not to get swept up in it as well.

And there was always Angel and his over-protectiveness to make up for any lack of angst.

"So you're teaching her to hustle pool now?"

Gunn smiled weakly, "Nah, it's nothing like that. It's just applied physics, it's good for her."

"She tell you to say that?"

"No," Gunn tried not to look too obvious, "come on, Angel, ain't like she's playing for money. Just a few candy bars, a gift certificate and some fun."

"A gift certificate can act as money!" whispered a young voice.

"Hey girl, I got this," Gunn said in a stage whisper.

"Do you?" Angel said.

"Fine, fine," Gunn put his hand up defensively, "you be the one to tell the legendary green machine she can't play in the finals."

"Make me the bad guy, classic," Angel sighed as he rubbed his temple.

"Well hey, you are the one with experience there, boss man."

"Fine, fine," Angel rubbed his forehead, "take her to the shelter. And take Faith, she needs the air."

"Yes!"

oooOOooo

Jenny stopped Gunn before they entered.

"Gunn?"

"What, need me to play human shield again?"

Jenny nodded, "Sorry, it's just that the acoustics are unique in how they're being reflected around the game room, and my hearing is at least two hundred percent better than humans so it gets really loud and hard to focus and…"

"Hey, no need to explain it to me again," Gunn replied. He ignored Faith's snort.

"Your big bald head absorbs radar," Faith said.

"Hey!"

"Actually, it's his wider lower body and muscle mass," Jenny explained, "but it doesn't hurt."

"Jenny!"

The young hybrid spun around when she heard Anne's voice. She rushed up to the young woman and nearly tackled her in a hug. Gunn smiled as Anne returned the hug effortlessly.

Most people would look twice at a kid with green skin and horns, but not Anne. She never asked about it, not really. After dealing with vampires and zombies, all Anne saw in Jenny was a little girl that needed to play and interact with other kids.

And with Angel's reputation, which got a boost during Hell A that never stopped, the kids saw Jenny like the daughter of a rock star. Just being in her presence was enough for some.

"Anne!" Jenny stepped back, "is Oscar here yet? Can I go win yet?"

"He's been waiting for you," Anne replied, "go have some fun."

"Have fun, sprout, I'm gonna stretch my legs," Faith said.

"That's not code for something nasty nearby, is it?" Anne whispered.

"Nah, Faith just wants a smoke," Gunn replied.

"Hey, I can do both," said Faith, "sometimes, I can even walk and chew gum at the same time."

Jenny rushed inside, and grabbed her favorite pool stick, and the stool she needed to stand.

"Alright everybody, we have our returning champion ready to take on all comers!"

Jenny grabbed her pool cue, and let Oscar break.

"She's a sweet kid," Anne said.

"It runs in the family," replied Gunn.

"So hey, just curious, you and Faith, you seeing each other?"

Gunn chuckled despite himself, "Faith? Nah. I mean, don't get me wrong she's fun to hang around, but she's a little too intense to be around all the time, ya know?"

"Big bad man needs a teddy bear," Anne teased, as Jenny lined up a shot, "I think she'll miss."

"Jenny, nah she's a natural," Gunn replied.

Anne took three steps aside, and Gunn watched in confusion as Jenny missed what he judged to be a relatively easy shot.

"Gunn, it's too loud in here!" Jenny said, though to Gunn the place was actually pretty quiet. A few kids were watching Jenny and Oscar play, but by now everyone knew where this would end. Most were just hanging out or playing games on the TV, "move to your left two yards."

"On it," Gunn replied. He felt a little embarrassed, acting like a human shield and taking orders from a little girl, but he was more than willing to swallow a little pride for her.

"Funny meeting you here," Anne smirked.

"Huh?" Gunn shrugged, "sorry, Jenny's got sensitive ears and it helps when I stand in certain places."

"Oh, of course," Anne smirked. She then took another three steps aside, though Gunn didn't notice. All he saw was Jenny missing what should have been another easy shot.

"Come on, Jen!" Gunn said, "don't let this foo' win!"

"Oh, I'm the sucker here?" Oscar smirked, "dream on, baldy."

"Gunn, move to your left three feet!" Jenny snapped, and Gunn obeyed like a soldier responding to his drill sergeant.

"Hello again, Gunn," Anne said. She crooked her head and looked at him with a goofy smile, "you just can't leave me alone today, can you? If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were stalking me."

"Huh?" Gunn gave Anne a look of confusion, "hey, don't look at me. I'm just trying to make Jenny more comfortable."

Anne giggled.

"It's cute the way you're wrapped around her finger, but Gunn? Maybe you should just take the hint before she tries to get too clever."

"Clever about what?"

"Really? Gunn, you can not be that thick."

"Wait, I missed something here," Gunn said.

"No you didn't!" Jenny shouted, as she leaned over the pool table to make another shot.

Gunn looked at Jenny, then to Anne, and then remembered the last week.

"Girl's been playing you like a bad video game," Oscar said.

"I'm free this Thursday," Anne said.

"So is Gunn!" Jenny shouted, indifferent to how the kids around her were all snickering. To Gunn, it was like a series of dominos fell in his mind, how this was the only place Jenny ever needed him to act as a shield, and Anne always happened to be nearby.

"Hey, who am I to deny two pretty girls?" Gunn said with an embarrassed smile, "it's a date."

"Finally!" Jenny said with a loud, dramatic sigh, "now I can get my candy."

"Whup him good, Jenny!"

oooOOooo

_Later_.

"Faith! I kicked butt!"

Jenny skipped down the stairs, a small bag of candy bars in one hand.

"Knew you would," Faith ruffled the young girl's hair, "how'd Project Cueball go?"

"What, you were in on it too?" Gunn shook his head.

"Faith offered to help," Jenny said, "she was the variable that delayed the project. Anne thought you were interested in her. But Faith offered to help when I told her about it."

"Offered to break your legs, let Anne play nursemaid," Faith said, completely nonchalant, "Jenny nixed it, though."

"Thanks for that, kiddo."

"It wouldn't have worked," Jenny said, while munching on a candy bar, "Anne's too busy with the shelter, she wouldn't have had any time to take care of you at all. And you wouldn't be able to pay her. Faith says you have to buy dinner to impress mates here."

"Is that the only reason why you wouldn't let Faith hurt me?" Gunn looked at Jenny with a raised eyebrow.

"Pretty much," Jenny said in all seriousness, "Connor said it the only way you'd take a vacation was if you broke a leg, and vacations are awesome! You aren't expected to work at all! What's better than that?"

"Not much," Gunn chuckled.

Yeah, Jenny was sweet, and definitely special.


	12. Action Science!

Math

Eric Holden set down his Barret M82 on the cavern floor, and began preparing for his assignment. He opened his laptop, and waited patiently for his customized, ten thousand dollar program to start.

It took a few minutes, but Eric was patient. Soon, the screen displayed the local weather, wind speed and humidity of a world a reality away. Eric studied the information for ten straight minutes, before he was satisfied that he was ready.

Eric reached into his knapsack, and removed an old leather and flesh bound tome created some five hundred years ago. He'd dog-eared the page he needed, and flipped the book open. In his own mind, he began reciting the Latin for the incantation he wanted.

-click!-

"Wow," said a new, feminine voice, "I know it's wrong, but damn I am impressed by this set-up. I never expected to find something this sophisticated, but I really should have."

Eric did his best to keep the shock from his body language, but his mind was running in a panic. How had someone managed to sneak up on him?

"Close the book, stand up and turn around. No sudden moves."

Eric did as he was told, and when he turned around it all made sense.

The woman standing behind him, weapon drawn, wore the standard black suit and tie that had characterized Federal agents for decades now. But her skin was a light green, she had a slightly stocky build and small horns on her forehead.

"Agent Jenny Burkle, correct?"

"You know, it used to be cool when perps knew my name. Now it just makes me feel like I'm on a bad cop show," Jenny said. She kept her Desert Eagle, standard issue for her agency, trained in Eric's chest.

"Well, it's not like there are that many green skinned agent slash scientists, even if your adopted father weren't so famous," replied Eric, "this may be a little awkward, but I'm kind of a fan of yours. I've read all your papers."

"Really?" Jenny blushed, "which was your favorite? I mean, not that I care what with you being a hired gun and bad guy, of course."

"The paper in which you proved your mom's string theory in relation to inter-dimensional travel," said Eric, "to be honest, I only understood a little of it, but I thought it was heartwarming how you wrote it for your mom. What's the point of science without a purpose?"

"I know!" Jenny sighed dramatically, though she kept her weapon level, "you know I had to threaten to pull the article entirely? I'm like one of the foremost experts on magic and they're all like 'This is science, not poetry', stupid jerks!"

"Science can be both, I find," said Eric.

"Oh, I agree," Jenny said, "anyways, ego stroking is over. We both have places to be. You in a dark cell, me having dinner with friends."

"You realize that you technically have no authority here, right?"

"There's no authority here, period," Jenny replied, "so that means I don't need to ask permission to kick your ass back to our home reality."

"So how did you find me?" Eric listened carefully and his eyes darted around.

"Wasn't easy," Jenny said, "it took me a few days to realize that you were sniping from another dimension. You really baffled the crime scene re-constructionists, there. It wasn't until they sent the bullet fragments to our department and I noticed the odd radioactive half-life that it even occurred to us you were on another plane."

"How did you narrow it down to this dimension? There are hundreds…"

Jenny shrugged, "I was able to use the radiation to narrow the possible realities to five. Only two had an earth like atmosphere. I figured you needed a planet as close to home for an easier shot, and only this one was uninhabited, which saves on distractions."

"Still, this is an entire world," Eric said, "how did you find my exact location out of thousands of possibilities?"

"You use a binding spirit on your laptop to another one back on earth, to monitor the weather near your target. It's a creative way to breach the gulf between realities, but it also creates a radio signal you could track from halfway across the world with the right charm. I did the same thing to my cell phone when I was fifteen in case I had to hop dimensions," Jenny said, "still, not a bad system you cobbled together."

"Really? Honestly, I never thought what I was doing was all that creative. Any good sniper shoots from behind cover. I just took it a few extra steps."

"Are you kidding? I'm not some idiot who doesn't understand how snipers work. You're not looking at someone through a scope, you have to take into the direction of the wind, the amount of humidity in the air, the rotation of the earth, hell when you pull the trigger I bet half the time your rifle isn't even pointed at your target, but above it," Jenny chuckled, "you kill people with math. Gotta respect the applied science warrior, even if it's evil."

"And you found me," Eric said, "I have to respect that, even if it's coming from a cop."

"Thanks."

"Though how did you sneak up on me?" asked Eric.

"I created an enchanted perfume that made me undetectable to scent and sound when I was fifteen," Jenny explained, "I did it a week after realizing that having a vampire for a dad meant he could tell when I had sex, and a whole year and a half before I actually did the deed. It was for both our sakes."

"I would agree," said Eric, "one last question?"

"Sure."

"How'd you know I was a vampire?"

"You're a what what?"

Eric's face changed into something primal, and Jenny squeezed the trigger twice before Eric smacked the gun from her hand and landed a right cross.

"Asshole!" Jenny swung her elbow into Eric's face, and the vampire replied with a backhand.

Eric grabbed her tie, "I don't know why you Feds always insist it wearing a rope on your neck."

Eric pulled, but the tie snapped off effortlessly.

"Clip on," Jenny took a step forward and landed her best right hook of the month, "they all are, idiot."

"Hmm, some demon strength but not vampire strong, or slayer tough," Eric chuckled, as he wiped some blood from his mouth, "you shouldn't be so cocky."

"Pot meet kettle," Jenny reached into her coat and removed a cross.

"You're well prepared," Eric smiled, "but I told you, I've read your papers. I believe it was called 'The united faith theory'? That's just a symbol from another world, and means nothing here without the magic."

"Magic, you fickle bitch," Jenny dropped the cross, and drew her back-up weapon, a small, 22 snub nose revolver, "okay, you've had your fun. Get on your knees and hands on your head, now! You're under arrest!"

"Are you kidding?" Eric chuckled, "I barely felt the Desert Eagle! That thing wouldn't kill me even if I were human!"

"Are you refusing to stand down?"

"I am."

Jenny smirked, "Good."

She pulled the trigger with relish, and Eric couldn't keep himself from screaming as the bullets pierced his flesh like burning arrows. Eric fell like a log at Jenny's feet.

"The bullets are made of particle board," Jenny removed a pair of specialized handcuffs, and slapped them on Eric's wrists, "and soaked in a special poison that would disable all but two vampires. Did you think I'd be dumb enough to pull a weapon that wouldn't work on you twice?"

The click of the handcuffs was the most satisfying sound Jenny had heard in the last month.

"You're right, asshole. I'm not slayer strong, or vampire tough…"

Jenny pressed her knee against Eric's back.

"…but I am Burkle smart."


	13. A new friend

Survivor

It was Lorne who approached Angel with the idea. That was why Angel made a point that he was there in his office, along with the Doctor as he gave them both his best thousand yard stare.

"So explain this to me again, Dr. Cross. Because it sounds to me like you want me use a little girl as a circus freak for the mentally ill. And you, Lorne, thought this was a good idea why?"

Lorne squirmed in his chair a little bit, and loosened his collar, "Angel hair, it's not like that at all, see, the Doc here, he's been canvassing the uhh…well, lets just say our side of the street looking for some volunteers for his clinic. Some nice, safe, demon volunteers."

"You know the words nice, safe and demon usually don't work together in a sentence, right?" said Angel.

"Well, yeah Angel Cake," Lorne shrugged, "but not always. There's me, Jenny of course, Clem and more than you'd expect, actually."

"If I may?" Dr. Cross said, "Mr. Angel, please I don't think you fully understand why I need your daughter. The idea is re-immersion therapy, which has been very successful in treating post traumatic syndrome. When LA was, well…umm…"

"Sent to hell," Angel said, "that is why you're treating them, is it not?"

"Yes, sorry. I apologize, Mr. Angel, it's just that I've only recently come around to accepting the concept of magic," Dr. Cross explained, "at any rate, millions were affected. Most seem to have simply written it off as a vivid dream. But there is a great number of whom who have not been able to do that, who remember everything, everything they saw and everything they did. And they need help."

"How is exposing them to demons again defined as help?" asked Angel, "seems like putting gas on a fire, not putting it out."

"It's all in how it's done," Dr. Cross explained, "we re-expose them to in controlled, safe environments wherein they can feel safe. And while they are 'there' and with professional help we assist them in confronting the trauma they witnessed. It is far from painless and it's not quick, but over time it does help people."

"How sure are you that this therapy will work?" asked Angel.

Dr. Cross sighed, "I have no idea, honestly. It works well when dealing with post traumatic stress sufferers. But there really is no case study for what happened to my patients. The trauma is unprecedented. It's like Wild Pig Syndrome in New Guinea, Zero Stroke in Germany or Artic Hysteria in well, Antarctica."

"I've never heard of any of those," said Angel, "I mean, I've heard of Antarctica and Germany, obviously, but…"

"That's because they're mental illnesses that happen in only one place in the entire world," Dr. Cross said, "look, my patients aren't violent, they're sick and they need help. I'm scrambling around in the dark here, so no, I can't promise it will work. But for the sake of my patients, I have to at least try."

"Fine, fine," Angel sighed, "I'll go. I'll do the bumpy head thing, no reason for Jenny to go."

"Uhh, actually," Dr. Cross winced, "that was my first thought, to recruit vampires since there seem to be so many, but Lorne explained to me that with the exception of two, yourself included, that all vampires are sociopathic killers and that they should never be invited anywhere ever."

"Lorne…"

"Well, it's not like he's wrong, is he Angel buns?" Lorne said, "look, I know this doesn't exactly sound like fun, but I think it'll be a positive experience for our little girl."

"It sounds like you want to use her like a circus freak, and I don't think that…"

"I want to do it."

Angel rubbed the bridge of his nose, gave Dr. Cross and Lorne a stern look, and then turned to Jenny.

"Jenny, what did I say about eavesdropping on my conversations?"

"I wasn't," Jenny said, eyes unable to meet his and her head barely raised. Angel wondered if she would ever be comfortable correcting an authority figure, "Faith asked me if I would like to do it. I researched the theory and cross referenced it with other respected doctors, well...not exactly respected because official institutions don't recognize things like demons and vampires and write them off as hallucinations which we all know isn't…"

"Jenny."

"Oh, umm, I think it's a good idea and I want to help," Jenny summarized.

Angel glared at Lorne, "You went to Faith first?"

"Hey, I thought she'd be the hard sale," Lorne shrugged, "who'd have thought that she would have been the reasonable one here?"

Angel rolled his eyes, "Dr. Cross, could you please leave your card? I'll call you and let you know what we decide. Lorne, could you get Faith?"

"Thank you for your time," Dr. Cross put his card down on the desk, and looked towards Jenny, "I hope to see you see soon."

"Jenny, could I talk to you for a moment?"

Lorne cringed as he left the office. Angel's 'serious voice' was never much fun to deal with, even when he was being gentle.

Jenny sat down across from Angel, and the vampire took a second to relax his posture, and shove down the annoyance, concern and flat out confusion he felt about all of this. He wanted to speak to Jenny as, well, not an equal exactly, but as her guardian and father figure and not a strict authority figure. He was keenly aware that he could order her not to go and she'd never ask about it again, but besides violating every ethical bone in his body, it wouldn't address the actual issue.

"You know that Dr. Cross wants you to visit his clinic because you're obviously…" Angel searched for the right word.

"Green?" Jenny suggested.

"Exactly," Angel replied, even though it wasn't the right word, "and that's going to draw attention. You know that, right?"

Jenny opened her mouth to say something, but decided instead just to nod. Jenny wasn't a shy child, Angel was quick to realize, but she was self conscious about how she stood out in a crowd all the same. It was only when people noticed her demon side, Jenny noticed it and them.

"So why do you want to do this, then?"

Jenny looked at the floor. Her eyes began to water, "My mother…she didn't remember me. What if…there's someone else out there…like me? Like her?"

Angel's throat went dry.

"I could never help her," Jenny replied. She wiped the tears away, "what if I could help them? Isn't that what you do, help people? Why is that wrong?"

"That's…" Angel sighed in relief when he saw Lorne and Faith standing at the office threshold, "I'll talk it over with Faith. Jenny, why don't you show Lorne those transformers you made?"

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jenny leapt out of the chair, as if someone flipped a switch in her heart and she grabbed Lorne's hand and began tugging at him, "I used the 3-D printer to make a working Rung and Rewind! It's awesome!"

"Aww, like two peas in a pod," Faith smirked, "you'd never know that she was actually scared of him for a while."

"Faith, please take a seat," Angel waved his hand at the chair, "lets chat."

"Sure thing," Faith stepped around Angel's desk, and planted her rear on the corner of his desk, "what up?"

"Why did you agree to this clinic thing behind my back?"

"Well, I didn't see your front at the time," Faith replied, "much less back. Lorne came to me first, and I thought it would be good for her."

"And who are you to make that choice?" Angel growled.

Faith did a double take, then glared daggers at the Vampire, "And who the hell are you to make any choices for that little girl, huh? I don't see no adoption papers, no foster care agreement, none of that shit. Yeah, I didn't know Fred. I get that. But I know Jenny, and I love the sprout. And you know what? She loves me. So don't you dare try to pull that bullshit on me again, are we clear?"

"I'm sorry," Angel raised his hands, conceding defeat, "you're right, Faith, I'm sorry. That was too far."

"Damn straight," Faith stood up and walked back around the desk. She felt a little too tempted to smack Angel at the moment.

"So what made you think this was a good idea?"

Faith shrugged, "I asked her if she wanted to help. She thought about it, and said yes."

"Faith, she's just a kid," said Angel, "do you really think she's thought this all the way through?"

"I kinda do, actually," Faith said, "lets face facts, she ain't no normal kid. Green skin and horns aside, she knows what rape is but not sex, she's seen her mom's body walking around with someone else in it and she's used to being treated like trash. And then there's Fred."

"What about her?" Angel tensed despite himself.

Faith knew she was on thin ice. Usually, that was when she felt the impulse to dance, but not here. Fred was their friend, their family, not hers, and that was something that demanded respect. Especially when it concerned Jenny.

"You guys say that she was messed up in the head after all that time in Pylea, right? That was her first real, 'holy crap!' experience with demons and shit, right?"

"Right," Angel said, though it went unspoken that that was a vast understatement. For three whole months after returning to earth, Fred was barely able to leave her room. And it was even longer still for her to accept what happened as reality and not some unending fantasy.

"Well, how convincing do you think that sounds to a girl with lime green skin, living with a souled vampire, a slayer and all the rest, huh?" Faith asked, "look, I know you want to do the same thing all good fathers want to do, lock their daughters up in a perfect little world where nothing bad can happen. But we can't do that."

"Says who? You just need the right spell," said Angel, "I've checked into it, actually."

"Sometimes, you have a head as thick as your forehead," Faith rolled her eyes, "my point, genius, is that she needs to see for herself what it's like, how normal people react to the shit we handle every day. It's the only way she'll ever understand what Fred went through, what she was going through. You know it, I know it and no matter how many uncomfortable truths we try to hide from her, Jenny knows it too."

"It's just that…", Angel struggled for the words.

"She'll still love Fred," Faith said softly.

"That shouldn't matter," Angel sighed.

"But it does," Faith replied, "you guys loved her, and you want Jenny to love her too. There's nothin' selfish in wanting a kid to love her mom."

"I have no right to pass judgment on Jenny's feelings," Angel said under his breath, "she's a child, not a drone. And the moment I try to force her to feel the way I do, is the moment I fail Fred and Jenny both."

"Oh, for God's sake," Faith rubbed the bridge of her nose, "stop over-thinking this, already. I still love my mom, she slapped me around, let me starve and all other crap I don't wanna talk about. Fred ain't got nothin' on her, okay? Understanding what Fred was goin' through won't make Jenny love her any less. Just the opposite, probably."

Angel leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"Fine, but keep an eye on her, okay? I don't care how selfish it sounds, Jenny's going to that clinic for her, not the patients."

oooOOooo

"So doc, before we step into the heart of darkness here, mind telling me a few things?"

Faith, Jenny and Dr. Cross were in a small room, looking through a one way mirror, looking at the institution's common area.

On the other side were roughly a dozen men and woman. Some moved as if they were sleep walking, a few sat on the floor rocking back and forth, while others sat unnaturally still. Each and every one of them had a detached, blank look in their eyes, as if they were looking across some great distance.

"Of course," said Dr. Cross, "I'll answer any questions that don't violate patient confidentiality."

"So why do you believe in magic and demons?" asked Faith, "don't get me wrong, it's all real and face-eaty. But in my experience, most people will bend over backwards to avoid actually admitting that."

"That's actually the very problem we have here," Dr. Cross said with a heavy sigh, "but as for me personally? I suppose I started believing when I received over two dozen patients all describing roughly the same thing to me."

"How do you know they didn't all smoke some bad weed?" asked Faith.

"Well, besides the fact that none of them were addicts prior to contacting me and come from different backgrounds? The fact of the matter is that there is no such thing as uniform hallucinations," Dr. Cross said, "if a drug makes someone hallucinate, well, what they see will always differ. Rats, a pink sky, but almost never the same thing. When I realized that was not the case with my patients, I decided to investigate. A nurse recommended your friend Lorne, and he was polite and patient enough to educate me."

"You lucked out there, doc," observed Faith, "usually when amateurs stumble into my world, it rarely ends well."

"As I realize the enormity of what I've discovered, I must agree," said Dr. Cross, "I believe in magic and demons and such, but I still have a long way to go before I'm entirely comfortable with it."

"'Nother question," Faith nodded to the patients on the other side of the glass, "what exactly is wrong with those people? They're not violent, are they?"

"Not at all," Dr. Cross said, "despite what you see on TV, mentally ill does not mean violent. As to what's wrong with them, it's…hard to explain."

"Give it a shot, because I'm not letting my girl out there without knowing what she's stepping into," Faith rested a gentle hand on Jenny's head, "understand?"

"Understood," sighed Dr. Cross, "I call it Social Reality Cognitive Disassociation Syndrome…"

"Call it Superman for all I care," Faith said, "still no idea what you're talkin' about."

"If you'd let me finish?"

"Sorry."

"Anyways, Social Reality Cognitive Disassociation Syndrome, or SRCDS for short, occurs when a patient is confronted with an experience that runs against their understanding of reality," Dr. Cross explained, "I believe that when confronted with undeniable truth of magic and demons, all of which our entire society says do not exist, they suffer a break from reality."

"I've seen plenty of norms not totally lose it because they saw a vampire," Faith said.

"What these people saw wasn't just one vampire or one demon," Dr. Cross replied, "they were completely immersed in an alien environment overrun by supernatural creatures that none of them believed existed. Everything they saw went against their entire view, their entire understanding of the world itself, something they couldn't dismiss no matter how hard they tried. From their viewpoint, they were thrown into a nightmarish fairy-tale, and their minds just couldn't accept it."

"So it was like waking up from the Matrix or somethin'?"

"I'm ashamed to get that pop culture reference, but yes," Dr. Cross said, "and when they realized the enormity of it all, they suffered a psychotic break."

"According to Angel, there were thousands of people involved," Faith said, "how come more aren't here?"

"I have no idea," Dr. Cross replied, "I've devoted my life to psychology, but the human mind is not an exact science. Different people react differently to trauma, sometimes. This therapy group isn't the sum total of my patients, please bear in mind, but you're right. The number is low."

"And not violent, right?" Faith said, "I know what you said earlier, but if I'm gonna let the sprout in there, I wanna be sure."

"All these patients are non violent," Dr. Cross repeated, "SRCDS is characterized by an inability to focus, a disassociation with reality while still being able to interact with it on some level, inability to track time…"

"Moments of lucidity immediately followed by prolonged bouts of depression which in turn leads back into disassociation with reality…"

Dr. Cross and Faith looked at Jenny. The young girl had her hand pressed to the glass, eyes cast over the patients. She pulled her hand back when she felt them looking at her.

"Or so I heard," Jenny said softly.

"…right," Faith muttered.

"Young lady, are you ready to do this?"

Faith felt a small bit of pride as Jenny looked at her, stood up a little straighter, and then said to Dr. Cross.

"I am."

oooOOooo

It took the nurses a good ten minutes to herd all the patients into their chairs. Jenny felt a cold sense of déjà as she entered the room and felt their eyes fall on her. Their attention was wild and unfocused, and something in how they looked at Jenny conveyed how their eyes were looking past her as if she didn't exist.

"Green, green as grass," said one.

"Horned, horned as the rest," said another.

"Hello," Jenny swallowed, "my uhh…my name is Jenny Burkle. I'm a demon…"

Faith cleared her throat.

"…half demon," Jenny clarified, "I was born on a world called Pylea…"

"Fake, fake fake green," muttered one man.

"Special, like everyone, special effects," muttered a woman of sixty years of age.

Jenny looked at Dr. Cross, crestfallen. None of his patients were looking at her like anything other than a little girl with makeup.

"Damn it," Dr. Cross muttered. He wanted to kick himself for thinking it was as simple as this.

"What, did you expect her to burst out some super demon form?" Faith asked, "she's just green and horned."

"No, I expected them to engage her," Dr. Cross replied, "some light conversation, just draw them out and into the reality of the supernatural. I may not have put enough thought this through."

"Well, we gave it a shot," Faith said with a sigh. The more she thought about it, the more Faith began to doubt if this was a good idea, "come on Jenny, we're blowing this place."

"No we're not," Jenny said firmly. She reached out to the closest patient, took his hand, and placed it on her horns.

Faith cracked a small smile. As a rule, Jenny hated it when anyone touched her horns. She explained that they felt like handlebars on her skull, and even the slightest brush up against them felt creepy and gross.

None of which inclined Faith not to flick them, when she felt the need arise.

"I'm real," Jenny said, "does this feel like special effects?"

"No…," the man said softly, "oh God, it was real. I…Becky…!"

The other patients looked at their friend, and then at Jenny.

"I think that's enough for today," Dr. Cross said with a practiced smile on his face, "Nurse Thompson? Why don't you see the patients back to their room?"

"Wait, what?" Faith watched in shock as the patients were led out, each and every one of them looking at Jenny with a reserved awe, "she only got through to like one guy!"

"Therapy isn't performed by a singular epiphany, but prolonged sessions addressing the issue," Dr. Cross explained, "she connected with Kevin, and in turn made a dent with the others. Now, they need to meet with their individual doctors and go from there."

"Well shit, that was a long drive for just a few seconds," Faith said.

"Well, uhh, about that…" Dr. Cross said, "I have two more groups. If you'd be willing…?"

"Well, since you lied about it so nicely…"

"I want do it," Jenny interrupted, "I need to."

Faith huffed, but didn't argue. This was Jenny's show.

"But, umm, could I lay down for a few minutes?" asked Jenny. She rubbed her eyes, and her voice cracked as she said, "my allergies are acting up."

"Of course, I'll have Nurse Thompson show you a spare room."

oooOOooo

Jenny plopped down on the bed, grabbed the pillow and hugged it close.

"Comfortable?" Faith sat down behind Jenny, and gently removed a few stray hairs from her face.

"Yes."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Ya sure?"

"Yes."

"We'll talk about it later then," Faith sighed. She leaned down and gave Jenny a gentle kiss, "a lot of people would be proud of what you did in there, kiddo. Myself included."

Jenny sighed in relief as Faith left, and let a few tears spill.

Watching those men and women wander around aimlessly, if trapped in their own world, their own minds, brought back painful memories. Her mother was like that more often than not, when she lived in Pylea. She was able to function, the Overseers wouldn't tolerate laziness after all, but sometimes it seemed as if she and her mother were living in two entirely separate worlds.

And Jenny couldn't help but wonder from which world her mother's love came from. The fictional, fairy-tale world she created inside her head? Or the cold, harsh world in which they lived?

"Honey?" Nurse Thompson tapped gently on the door and let herself in, "are you hungry?"

"Little," Jenny said.

Nurse Thompson put a tray of sliced apples on the nightstand beside the bed. Jenny sat up and took a bite.

"Thank you," Jenny said softly.

"What you did was very brave," Nurse Thompson said, "sometimes we forget how strong we are, when all we can do is survive when the people we love die."

"Who…who did you lose?"

"I lost my husband," she said, "he died just hours before Hell A occurred, actually. I didn't think I could move on, move forward, but I did. I had to, just to survive. And when it was finally all over, I realized I hadn't even taken any time to mourn the man I loved so very much."

Jenny nodded in understanding, in sympathy.

"When they took me to the market, I told myself I had to be strong. For my mom, for myself. And…and when I realized I'd never see her again, I just…accepted it," Jenny said, "when I finally learned that she died, I didn't even feel anything, I just…couldn't!"

"I know honey," said Nurse Thompson, "but you should know just because you moved on, doesn't mean you didn't love her. Life just didn't give you the time you needed. It rarely does."

"She gave me so much," Jenny said, rubbing her wet eyes, "even though she's dead, I'd never have the family I have now without her. Everything I have is because of her…and it feels so wrong because I never really mourned her death!"

"Jenny, you loved her," Nurse Thompson said, "that's all you need to feel to mourn her 'properly'. There's nothing wrong with that, or you."

Jenny wiped her eyes, "Thank you. For listening, Miss Thompson…"

"Any time, sweetie. You look like someone who needs to talk to someone. That young lady who was just in here, she would listen…"

"Faith?" Jenny shook her head, "I don't want to upset her. She already cares too much about me."

"I don't believe that's possible, sweetie, but I understand," Nurse Thompson reached into her pocket, and pulled out a business card, "here, my number's on there. Feel free to call me any time. We can just talk, it doesn't matter about what."

"I… I couldn't," Jenny gently pushed the card aside.

"Please, honey, I insist. It's no trouble at all," she said, "it's only fair to pay you back for what you've done here today."

"Thank you, Nurse Thompson…"

"Please, no need to be so formal," she said, "my first is Sarah, but my friends call me by my middle name…"

"Please, just call me Eve."


	14. Spike

Spike

It was nine days after one of the worst days of Jenny life, that she first had 'The Talk'.

Dennis had finished the lessons early, and since Gunn was catching a 'Walking Dead' marathon, Jenny thought she'd spend some time in the armory. After the turmoil of the last week, the stink of Illyria still clinging to the back of her mind, Jenny could only think of two ways to cleanse her mind and she needed solitude for both.

"_There's a yellow rose in Texas, that I am going to see…"_

Jenny unscrewed the plastic casing on the taser Angel had given her, and carefully opened it up and set it next to the second one he'd had provided.

"_No other darky knows her, no darky me…"only _

The second taser had belonged to her mother, so Jenny was reluctant to do any experimenting with it until she'd at least finalized her modifications. Now more than ever, the idea of losing any more of her mother, no matter how small, just made Jenny's heart clench.

"_She cried so when I left her it like to broke my heart…"_

Jenny removed several small blades from the cabinet, and began looking them over. According to Kate, there had been several demons with skin too thick to be fazed by the electrical shock, but Jenny was certain that it could be overcome with the right blade. All that mattered was how to connect it to the taser, how to jury-rig the knife to remain concealed until use and how to brace it properly so that when it pointed at demon flesh, it wouldn't snap like a twig.

Child's play, really.

Jenny went through the designs in her head while she sang. Lost in her work, in what to her was the pure act of creation and discovery, she hadn't even noticed when the door to the armory creaked open.

"_And the Yellow Rose of Texas shall be mine forevermore."_

"That, luv, is one of the most beautiful song I've heard in a very long time."

Jenny's head shot towards the door, "Spike!"

"You forget about our date, pet?"

Jenny grabbed the nearest blade, and threw it at the vampire, "Get out, get out, get out!"

Spike just barely managed to get to the other side of the door before one of the blades would have sunk into his ankle.

"Hmm, still not the quickest a girl's run me out of a room," Spike said. He then began counting down from five, and when he reached one, the door flew open.

"Oh Spike I'm so sorry!" Jenny's small hands grabbed Spike by his leather coat and yanked him inside, "are you okay? Are you upset? I'm so so sorry!"

"Of course I'm bloody upset!" Spike said, as he went along with Jenny. She pushed him into a chair, and dashed for the medical kit, "you missed me by a bloody mile! Who's been teaching you to throw, Angel? He couldn't even hit his own forehead! Bet it was Gunn, he throws like a girl too."

"What?"

Spike watched as Jenny stopped to give him an odd look as she processed the information, but he knew it was only half the battle if he wanted to overcome her guilt slash submission complex.

"Besides, it wasn't like you threw any wood at me, pet," said Spike, "isn't there some reason why that's harmful to vampires?"

"Oh, that's because the dead cells in the wood absorb the energy that animates your body and creates a sort of feedback loop, like how two similarly charged magnets will repel one another," Jenny explained as if she were a college professor giving a lecture, "well, that's the simplified version, see…"

Spike nodded and said 'Of course', 'I see', 'naturally' and 'well, obviously' without prompting or understanding a single sentence that came out of Jenny's mouth. Like her mom or Willow, Jenny loved to talk about science, to educate anyone who would listen.

But unlike them, she hadn't learned to recognize a lack of interest slash comprehension. Spike knew she'd pick it up in time, but at the moment he was glad he was both immortal and experienced in surviving torture.

"…you forget this a lot," Jenny observed, as she wound down her lesson, "maybe I should write it down?"

"Sorry sweet pea, I'll remember it all one day, scout's honor," Spike said, "and sorry about stepping in when you were singing, pet. I didn't mean to hear that, for what it's worth."

"I overreacted," Jenny said softly.

"That song, your mum taught it to you?"

Jenny nodded, "They…we don't have music in Pylea. I think it's a culture and energy interaction, but, yes. It was something we shared, something only we had, at first. I…I'm sorry."

"No harm done, Jen," said Spike, "art's a part of who you are, deep down, and I know what it's like to have some meant only for family. Hard to even think of letting someone else see."

"But…I didn't keep it just keep it to myself," Jenny said, her voice laced with regret, "when they took me away, I thought if I'd share it…"

"Didn't go the way you wanted, eh?" said Spike.

Jenny's look said everything.

"Not easy to open up your heart and have people just step on it," Spike said, "believe me, I have far too much experience there."

"None of them kept it a secret, either," Jenny scowled, "even the other zg'toff told Lorne without a second thought, after everything I did for them!"

"Hold on," Spike reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumbled up piece of paper. He ran down the list, hand written by Lorne and given to everyone on the team, until he confirmed the word, "right, don't say that word again, luv."

"What, zg'toff? Why?"

"Because it's an ugly word that has no business coming from the mouth of a beautiful little girl," said Spike as he returned the paper back into his jacket.

"It's…just a word."

"So it wouldn't mean anything if Angel or I called you a zigtoff? You wouldn't care then, eh?"

Jenny brushed her eyes, "Please don't."

"Never will, swear it," said Spike, "anyways, joke's on them, though. Without them, Lorne never would have picked you out of that crowd."

"I…never thought of that," Jenny said. She still remembered Lorne's stunned reaction when he asked her to sing, how a few bars seemed to hit him like a club the face. From there, everything just snowballed into the life, the freedom, the family, she had now.

All because of her mother's song, her gift. Jenny wondered if it was fate, or a cruel joke that something she fought so hard to keep secret, to hold inside, was the key to her new life once it was pulled out into the open.

Life had no shortage of cruel jokes to play on her, Jenny thought bitterly.

"For what it's worth, even if it didn't go the way you wanted, it was very brave of you," said Spike, "took me over a hundred years and what I thought was going to be me final brawl to finally spit it out."

"Thank you," Jenny said, her tone neutral.

"So what are you working on here, eh?"

Jenny glanced at the taser, then to Spike.

Jenny studied the vampire carefully. She'd known him a while now, and come to the opinion that Spike was very much a blunt and straight forward person. But at the same times he'd observed how often, during a conversation, he would often change the subject for a moment, lighten the mood, before going right back into the serious stuff.

Jenny's evaluation surprised even herself. She thought, she wanted, to leave those old instincts behind in Pylea, where knowing a person was the difference between life and death, but old instincts died hard.

"Spike, why are you here?" Jenny forced herself to say. She was beginning to suspect where this conversation was heading.

"My turn, remember?"

"No it's not. And Faith said you were going to chase slayer tail in Rome," Jenny replied.

"Plans changed."

"Why?"

Spike winced, "Well, Illyria happened, luv. I was a part of all that, I'm here for my lumps."

"I never meant to hurt Faith!" Jenny said, her eyes watering.

"Whoa there, sweet pea!" Spike raised his hands defensively, "that was a figure of speech, didn't mean it literally. I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just want to talk."

"Oh," Jenny wiped her eyes, "oh. You lied."

"I did," Spike said, without hesitation, "not something I wanted to do, but I think you can understand why."

The vampire watched as a scowl came across Jenny's face, and saw it leave just as quickly. To Spike, Jenny was like a firecracker. She needed the right spark to explode, but without it she was completely harmless.

The young lime skinned girl turned to the taser, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad, luv," Spike placed a hand on the child's shoulder, and gently turned her back around, "that load of bollocks might work with Angel, but not me. You can't keep this bottled up, and I can help."

"Shut up!" Jenny smacked Spike's hand away, "you have no idea what it was like, seeing that thing! In my mother's body!"

"I actually do know what it's like to see your mum come back as something else," Spike said softly, "and I know if you don't deal with it, it could poison all your memories of her."

"Talking won't solve anything," Jenny spat, "that thing will still be in my mom's corpse, and you'll still do nothing about it!"

"It'll make you feel better, now and in the future," said Spike, "that's good enough for me, pet."

Jenny looked at the workbench, and wished it was the escape she wanted, "You wouldn't understand. None of you do."

"Try me."

"You all think I'm mad because that thing, Illyria, killed her," Jenny explained with an angry sigh, "but I'm not."

"Look here kiddo, just because we're forgiven her for what happened, does not mean you have to," Spike said, "you're entitled to your own opinions here, luv."

"I'm not mad," Jenny repeated, "because I knew someone was going to kill her. I saw people die, every week. If…if I got angry about it, the Overseers…if they saw, they would have…"

Spike gave Jenny's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"They're not here, and they'll never hurt you again, pet. You don't have to obey their rules one damn bit."

"I never knew mom like you did. You talk about her, you tell me stories and I barely even _recognize_ her," Jenny sobbed. Without meaning to, she fell into Spike's chest, weeping, "I only knew her as a sick cow! A slave, a thing! And I always thought that if nothing else, she'd get the peace of the dirt!

"When I saw that thing, I saw my mother still enslaved! Even dead, she's still a slave!"

Spike just hugged Jenny as she wept.

"It…it just feels like a cruel joke!" Jenny wept, "she gave me so much! She's the only reason why anyone cares about me, and I have to see her corpse walk strolling around!"

"Whoa, whoa hold up there!" said Spike, "your mum isn't the only reason we care about you!"

"There were twenty three other slaves in my group," Jenny said, her head still buried in Spike's chest, "where are they now?"

"Umm…"

"You save anyone you can, that doesn't mean you save everyone," Jenny said.

Spike sighed, and silently wished Jenny wasn't so damn smart and at times, seem so very old.

"Look here, sweat pea," Spike gently moved Jenny away from his chest, and looked her in the eye, "yes, we came for you because of Fred, because of who your mum was. But we will always be there for you, always love you, because you're Jenny Burkle. Not 'Fred's daughter', but Jenny Burkle. And none of us damn one bloody bit how you came to be, either. You know that, right?"

Jenny nodded.

"And while we all loved Fred, you do need to know, you don't have to drink the kool-aid there, pet."

Jenny cocked her head.

"What? Kool-aid's amazing! It tastes like fruit, it's full of sugar and…!"

"Sorry, hold up," Spike put a finger over Jenny's lips, "another figure of speech, there. What I mean is, you don't have to feel the same way about Fred, about your mum, that we do."

"What? I love her! Why wouldn't I?" Jenny said defensively, "after everything she gave me…!"

"Because when you talk about her, when you ask, I get the feeling that you're holding something back," Spike explained, "jus' a gut feeling, mind."

Jenny glanced aside.

"However you feel, whatever's in your heart, there is nothin' wrong with it," Spike said, "and we're not about to toss you out because you feel different. You understand that, right?"

"I do."

"And anything you need to tell me, I'll never tell another soul," Spike said, "swear on mine."

"I loved her, and I forgive her for not coming for me, it's just…"

Spike frowned as he saw what he labeled Jenny's 'serious face' surface. He saw Jenny as a pretty girl, prettiest little girl he knew, but all the same, that face to him was worse than any vampire's, because it was simply too old to be on anyone so young.

"I don't want to tell you why."

Spike looked at Jenny as if she'd said the world was flat.

"She's your mum…"

"And I loved her, but if you knew why, you'd hate me," Jenny said softly.

"Jenny, pet, I couldn't hate you…"

"You don't know that as fact," said Jenny.

"Yes I do."

"Spike…"

Jenny shook her head, and Spike bit his lip. Jenny was braver than any child her age had any right to be, but as far as Spike was concerned, Jenny's courage was like her holding her breath. She could put up a strong front in the face of the unknown, but only for so long. Because the longer she had to be brave in the face of the uncertainty, the longer her imagination had to create all kinds of terrible scenarios. And a smart girl like her could create some terrible things indeed.

"Alright, we'll finish later, okay?"

"Okay," Jenny nodded.

"And since we're discussing uncomfortable subjects, you have to know how you feel about Illyria…"

"Doesn't change how you feel about her," Jenny finished, "she contributes more than I do, I know. I understand."

Spike rubbed his head, "No, no, no. Illyria's fought the good fight, saved lives including mine, same as me, Angel and Gunn. When you go through what we did….well, you're older, you'll understand."

"I understand she's in my mother's corpse," Jenny spat.

"That I'll grant you," Spike shrugged, "not saying you're wrong to hate her, luv. I have no right to judge there. But I love the both of ye, doesn't mean I have any intention of choosing between you."

"I know," Jenny sighed, "but thank you Spike for saying so. Angel, Gunn, the rest, they feel the same way, but…"

"They don't know how to say it, I know," replied Spike, "they just don't understand that sometimes it's better to dive in head first."

"Truth is always easier," Jenny sighed, "because when people lie, it always hurt worse. Because you'd hope, and…"

"Truth might be easier, but it's not always gentle," Spike said, "the others, they want to be gentle with you. Truth be told pet, so do I. But we don't always get that choice."

"This is still gentle," Jenny wiped her eyes, "on Pylea, I'd just be told, and no one would care about how I felt. And afterwards, they wouldn't buy me ice-cream to prove they were sorry."

Spike chuckled at Jenny's awkward, but hopeful and a little mischievous smile.

"Is that what's happening now?"

"You said you were sorry," Jenny said, "I need facts to collaborate and confirm. That's how science works."

Spike stood up and offered Jenny his hand in the perfect gentleman manner gesture, "Well, who the hell am I to stand in the way of science? One Sunday or two?"

"Three!"

Notes: Spuffyduds is the one who created the term zg'toff (it's not polite), and originally wrote Fred teaching Jenny 'Yellow Rose of Texas'. Just givin' credit where credit is due!


End file.
